STARCROSSED fate
by Little-Hufflepuff
Summary: When the son of werewolf hunter James Potter is turned by a rogue wolf the boy is dragged from his simple life and thrust into the world of werewolves. Finding out he is a submissive and the mate to Fenrir Greyback makes Harry's transition difficult FG/HP
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**When the son of werewolf hunter, James Potter, is turned by a rogue werewolf the boy is dragged from his simple life and thrust into the curious world of werewolves. Finding out he is a submissive and the mate to Fenrir Greyback makes Harry's transition difficult. SLASH. FG/HP.

**-STARCROSSED fate-**

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><p><strong>-CHAPTER ONE: The Watching Moon-<strong>

"Harry, sweetie! Hurry up, the barbeque is starting." Harry let a small groan fall from his lips, the pages of his book fluttered and he lost his place, pushing off his mattress and subsequently dropping the dog eared novel to the floor the young adolescent scrambled to his feet, stumbling slightly over his too long jeans that bunched at his feet. The sound of his mother coming up the creaky stairs made him quickly slip on a t-shirt, hiding his thin tummy. He had always been self-conscious about his diminutive frame.

Running his fingers through his untidy hair, Harry jogged from his small room, "coming, mum!" he replied and met her halfway down the flight of stairs. Her long auburn hair was swept up into a messy tangle on top of her head and her lips were painted in soft red lipstick. They had just moved from Scotland to the small town of Middleton, an out-of-the-way mountainous area that was nestled close to England. In between his parents finding new jobs and Harry settling into his new school they had organized a barbeque to get to know their neighbors; something Harry had very little interest in.

His mother gave him a smile, "your friends from school are here, and that pretty oriental girl, Cho was her name?" Harry nodded, not too thrilled about his admittedly few friends turning up. He wasn't good at socializing with large groups and his stomach roiled with trepidation. The same kindly smile was still on his mother's lips as she reached for his wrist and bodily dragged him down the rest of the stairs. For someone so tiny she was strong.

"It's only a few hours and then you can go back to your reading, bubby." She said with sympathy, Harry grimaced at her nickname for him but let it slide as they neared the front door. His mother had a penchant to coddle him, smothering him with motherly affection whenever possible – Harry had a hunch it was because he was an only child, that and his mother was generally a very maternal woman.

Letting Harry's wrist drop from her hold the elfin Lily turned to him, "We have your favourite," she commented and pushed open the heavy wooden door, "tofu and veggies! You love them barbequed right?" Harry gave a small huff of laughter at the eager expression in his mother's bright eyes.

"Just because I'm a vegetarian doesn't mean I adore tofu, but it's pretty good barbequed." He admitted with a grin twisting his lips. His mother was quite fond of organic foods and the likes, going so far as to grow her own vegetables when possible, perhaps that's where Harry got his tendency to eat the many array of vegetables she offered him, for as long as he could remember he hadn't enjoyed meat. He father was the complete opposite and loved his meat, steak was his favourite and he always made a point of telling Harry how much he was missing out whenever he had some. Harry expected today would be no different.

Just as he entered the large front garden his father's voice called out to him, "got some lean prime steak cooking, Harry, can you smell the lip-smacking goodness?" Harry rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. His father always made remarks towards his eating habits; they were only ever lighthearted however. Scanning his eyes around the garden Harry took in the small amount of people who had showed up so far.

His three friends, Ron, Cho and Hermione sat around a wooden table, soda's in hand as they laughed and talked amongst one another, Harry gave a smile when Hermione slapped Ron's arm in admonishment and the redhead's ears went pink. His father was manning the cooking food in a very territorial way, he joked with a rounded, balding man that Harry recognized as a neighbor two houses down. A few other people were scattered about the garden and Harry made quickly for his friends, immediately Cho stood up and embraced him warmly, her flowery scent strong and almost overpowering.

The girl pulled back, she was an inch shorter then Harry and the only girl in his grade that was in fact shorter then him. "Hi mate, nice house." Ron said and gestured to the cottage like residence, Harry smiled and scooted onto the bench seat, Cho followed quickly, pressing her thigh up against his. Harry's cheeks turned bright pink and he coughed uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if his belly squirmed in pleasure or disgust but chose to ignore it.

Hermione opened her lips to speak but was interrupted by James' voice declaring the food was ready for eating, Ron jumped to his feet and dashed away quickly, "he only ever thinks about food," Hermione said and shook her head, her bushy hair fell into her face and she huffed, "I swear he will end up a fat old man if he keeps eating like this." Harry snorted in amusement and watched Ron grab two large servings of steak, a sausage in bread and three rissoles. It was a wonder Ron wasn't already big around the middle. Instead the boy was gangly and tall, his arms and legs seemed far too long for his body.

"Come on then, let's get some food before he eats it all on us." Hermione said wryly, Harry shook his head and got to his feet, feeling a little more comfortable about the barbeque. As much as he enjoyed his friends company he was reminded about just how much different he was to kids his own age. He was shy and preferred the company of his books to others; he had always been reclusive even when he was a little boy. Despite his quiet nature he had a fierce temper; his father always said he got it from his mother and joked it was the redhead gene at play.

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><p>The low hum of the music playing from the stereo, which was resting precariously on the window ledge of the living room, was soothing. The window had been opened to allow James and Denner, the balding man, to hook it up to a power point. Both men were now relaxing with a beer and praising their handy work. Harry rested his chin in his palms and watched a few elderly neighbors' dance to the music. Harry sat slumped over the surface of the wooden table, the steady breathing from his right told him Cho was still next to him, she had made a show of staying by his side the entire evening, much to Harry's slight discomfort. Hermione was conversing with a group of women she appeared to know and Ron was around scabbing scraps of food where possible.<p>

"The moon's going to be bright tonight." Cho stated and Harry jumped, he turned to face her, her dark hair spilled down her shoulders in a sheet of black, it was shiny in the darkening light and Harry had the odd urge to touch it, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. "Don't you think?" she questioned when Harry didn't reply, he nodded and looked up at the rising orb, it was full and already glowing luminescent.

Cho sighed and leaned closer to Harry, her hair brushed his exposed forearms and Harry was shocked at the thickness of it, it wasn't silky like his own, but heavy. "I've enjoyed tonight." The girl said and gave Harry a sweet smile. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Have you?" Harry had stayed at the table most of the evening, only venturing off when his mother had called for him to greet some random people, Cho had been glued to his side, and surely the girl hadn't had a good time. Even Harry was bored with himself. Her expression changed and she gave a giggle, it was high-pitched, her hand rested over his own and she leaned closer.

"You're so cute when you look like that," she whispered and Harry thought she was about to do something he wasn't entirely sure he wanted, "all confused and pouty." She breathed and her warm breath ghosted over his lips, he licked them impulsively and just caught the sight of murky, brown eyes and a slightly upturned nose before Cho's lips pressed tightly to his own. Harry's first reaction was to freeze, he allowed the soft lips to move against his, the girl was breathing heavily through her nose and vaguely Harry realized he was suppose to be enjoying this and responding, instead he was stock-still and holding his breath. He'd never been kissed before and had imagined it would have been different – more mind-blowing, fireworks in the sky, shaky knees, like. He was disappointed.

A startled scream saved Harry from analyzing his emotions surrounding the kiss, Cho pulled away quickly, her eyes wide as she stared at something beyond Harry's shoulder. Harry furrowed his brows and turned, his heart instantly stuttered and bashed painfully at his ribs. Not six feet away, standing framed in the gateway was a large, pitch black dog – no not a dog, it had to be a wolf. The animals body was large and would have came up to Harry's bellybutton had he been standing up. Its dark gaze was unsettling as it swept the stationary crowd, hackles quivering. Harry swallowed thickly and could hear Cho's rapid breaths.

"Everybody stay calm, don't move or make any sudden movements." Harry's entire body shivered in relief when his father spoke up, James' voice was quiet but stern and everyone of the guests' attention was focused on him. Cho reached out and took Harry's hand in her own; her skin was clammy and cold but it didn't matter, Harry was thankful for the minor comfort.

The wolf's throat rumbled with a growl, the guests flinched and Harry's heart jumped into his throat, almost suffocating his breathing. It was going to attack! The shadowy wolf gave another low growl and its hackles rose, baring its sharp, dirtied teeth to the watchers. Harry's stomach flipped at the menacing sight and Cho's hand tightened its grip.

Large paws took a tentative step closer and if Harry hadn't been aware of the saliva dripping from the wolf's canines he would have thought the animal was hesitant to approach the humans, it seemed more likely that the wolf was stalking closer for the attack and Harry's eyes flew quickly to his father's figure that stood near the front door; the man was frozen and appeared to be thinking. Harry hoped he would do something soon, and had a childish thought that because his dad was here everything would be alright.

The wolf snarled when a small figure shifted next to the barbeque and Harry recognized it as Hermione, he made to stand up, but Cho grasp his hand firmly and whispered a startled breath of words into his ear, "_don__'__t_ – it'll see you," Harry caught the sound of her breath hitching in her chest and closed his eyes, hating how scared she sounded.

No one dared to move even as the wolf approached the shivering girl, her awry hair was plastered to her forehead and cheeks from sweat and her lips were pale and dry from the shallow breaths she was taking. Harry's stomach dropped out of his pelvis and his skin flushed cold when the animal snapped its jaws at Hermione, strings of saliva spraying into the air, Hermione whimpered and the wolf took another step closer.

Harry's entire body was rigid and he felt his head spinning dizzily as he watched Hermione scurry backwards, the wolf just increased its pace and kept on coming for her. He had to do something, or his father had to tell everyone what to do – the bloody animal was about to attack Hermione! Just as Harry was about to release his tight muscles and spring into action a large, heavy object was pitched passed his head.

"Piss off you mutt!" It was unmistakably Ron that hurled the insult and the object at the wolf and Harry's brain washed full of thoughts in the brief moment of pause when the barbeque tongs hit the animal's dark, mattered coat. Black eyes narrowed and the wolf turned, its tail hooked and its hackles raised, with a rumbling growl that tore through the night the animal leaped and made for the redhead. Cho screamed and Harry was aware of only noise as he shut his eyes tightly and allowed the girl to pull him underneath the wooden table. Hermione's shrill cries and the subsequent shriek from Ron made Harry's stomach heave and he clutched at the trembling girl next to him.

"Everybody get inside now!" Harry opened his eyes when his father's voice screamed the order, his tone lilting with fear and apprehension, Harry wanted to crawl from under the table and run to the man but something caught his attention, it was the wolf. Dark fur was wet with an equally dark liquid and its eyes were trained on Harry, yellow teeth slick with blood caught the boy's attention. Was Ron okay? Did the wolf kill him? It was odd how worried Harry was for Ron, considering they had only known one another for a month and a half. The wolf snapped its jaws and growled deeply, Cho uttered a scream that was smothered by her hands.

"Harry, get out from under there and get inside!" James called from the doorway, ushering the frightened neighbor's into his house while he did so, Harry didn't spare his father a glance, he didn't even acknowledge he had heard the man – his entire world was center down to the black beast in front of him and the shaking girl behind him. His breaths left his tongue in harsh, searing gasps; he kept his eyes trained on the advancing wolf, watching each graceful movement.

James cried out again and this time Harry could hear his mother yelling his name and Cho's, it didn't matter – he wouldn't make it even if he did decide to make a run for it, the wolf was too close now, so close Harry could smell the mangy scent of sweat and blood and mud, it mingled around the animal and Harry almost gagged. Icy fingers gripped his bicep and Harry flinched, "Harry, we need to get inside." Cho stated and her voice shook and wobbled even as her eyes sparked with resolve, Harry shook his head and the girl's mouth fell into a frown.

"It's too close –" his words were cut off by the roaring bark that nearly deafened him, the hot breath of the animal rushed against his face and Harry gave a startled yell, kicking his body backward away from the wolf. Cho was ripping at his t-shirt, pulling the material hard enough to stretch it, the wolf's jaw were open and the teeth glistened with saliva, Harry knew they had to get out from under the table; the wolf would only squeeze under.

"Move," he grunted at Cho, pushing at the girl's body, "go run –" Cho's eyes were large and she stared at the wolf which snarled and heaved it's body forcefully, attempting to fit underneath the table.

"Where?" Cho questioned and Harry nearly yelled at her, he instead hastily coaxed the girl to move out from under the table and scrambled out himself, the large wolf gave a short howl and then leaped onto the top of the table, its paws caked with mud and its long claws scratching at the wood, peeling the paint off. Harry took a deep breath, ignoring the yells from his mother and father, with quick movements Harry grabbed Cho by the wrist and took off at a sprint, leaving behind his house for the dim light of the street.

"Harry no! James – do something!"

"Cho – my baby girl…"

The wailing cries from both of the adolescents' parents ripped the night in two and Harry almost sobbed when he heard the pounding footfalls of the wolf. It was pursuing them. Pushing his body forward and quickening his pace Harry dragged the puffing girl behind him, hoping they could make it someplace safe. His sneakers slapped at the ground and his breathing was oddly loud in his own ears, he caught the sound of the panting wolf and dared to turn around – it was right on them scarcely a meter behind, its legs stretching far with each stride, if Harry hadn't been a fast runner he would have been caught by now.

"Harry – it's _coming_!" Cho yelled and her voice was piercing despite her lack of breath, Harry made a sharp turn into a side street, pulling the girl with him ruthlessly, Cho gasped in pain but continued to run with him, her long hair was wild and flowing behind her in a curtain of dark silk. The wolf snarled and dogged their every move, it was then that Harry realized it was playing with them; a full grown wolf could surely have had him by now. Turning his head Harry looked passed Cho and watched the wolf, it was running with its tongue lolled out the corner of its mouth, its dark eyes narrowed and ears alert.

"It's toying with us," Harry panted to Cho and the girl looked confused for all of two seconds before realization dawned on her, "we have to find someplace to hide before it gets serious!" Harry's heart spluttered painfully in his chest when the wolf trailing them howled, its voice low, and then a deep, shuddering growl rumbled through the wolf's body, its ears flat to its skull and Harry knew now that the animal was dead serious. It was as though it had known Harry had caught on to its little game. But that was impossible it was a wolf.

Cho's hand wrenched its self from his hold and she took off ahead of him, leaving Harry behind in the dark side street, he turned, stopping in his tracks to face the wolf. A menacing glare meet his own wide-eyed gaze and Harry shivered from the look of utter enjoyment on the wolf's face, Ron's blood still covered the animal's chin and teeth, a chilling sight that made Harry's blood run ice cold. Swallowing Harry realized he was officially stuck, if he ran now his back would be turned for the wolf to take its moment to attack and if he stayed still the wolf would do so anyway.

"Harry, baby, where are you?" Harry's head shot up and he looked around the dim street, his mother's voice was on edge. The wolf made a snarling sound and its teeth were bared at Harry threateningly. Not daring to call back to his mother and run the risk of putting her in danger Harry crouched down, trying to make himself as small as possible – if he wasn't considered a threat then maybe the wolf would back off? At least that's what he hoped. He felt exposed crouching low on the ground; his hands steadying his shaking body against the ground. The wolf stopped its snarling and tilted its head, studying the boy as if perplexed.

Footsteps sounded not far off and then another voice called for him, "Harry, mate? Where are you?" it was his father and Harry sobbed in relief, he sounded close.

The wolf tensed and it's eyes shifted between Harry and something behind the boy, slowly Harry turned his head, making sure not to make any sudden movements, behind him was his father, a silver handgun weighing down his hand – it was pointed directly at the wolf. Harry held his breath – the wolf barked harshly and the gun went off. The last coherent thought Harry had was that his father must have missed his target because the sharp pain in his leg hurt like a son of a bitch. His green eyes rolled back into his head and he fell unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**-CHAPTER TWO: Dawn of the Werewolf-**

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><p>Harry's head pounded with a rush of blood that roared in his ears, he groaned woozily and squeezed his already shut eyes tighter closed. His entire body was aching and his bones burned as though they were on fire. What was wrong with him? Harry groaned softly and took a steadying breath, his hands reflexively bunched handfuls of his covers and he inhaled the sweet, fresh scent of clean linen.<p>

His headache diminished somewhat and the boy continued to breathe deeply, calming his hurting body with each inhalation. Slowly and carefully Harry opened his eyes, surprised to find himself in his room, the curtains pulled closed and the lamp on his bedside table casting its orange hues across the bedroom walls. With a quick intake of air Harry's memories flooded into awareness and he sat up straight in his bed, the covers bunching at his waist. With out thought the boy pulled back the blankets and checked his throbbing leg, expecting to see a bullet wound embedded in his flesh, instead there was a large gash just below his left knee, it had been cleaned, showing the torn skin around the wound. Harry's blood clotted thickly over the slash and was dark crimson. He hadn't been shot!

"Was I bitten?" the boy mused out loud and touched his fingertips to the angry looking scab, it smarted and he hissed a breath through his teeth. Deciding not to self-torture himself Harry left the injury alone and stretched his back, hearing a satisfying crack that immediately made him feel more awake. He was relieved that he was in the safety of his room and not in some dark street facing down a wolf however the stirrings of unease held tight to his lungs and Harry wondered frantically if everyone else was alright – if Ron was still alive.

Swinging his legs out of bed Harry stood, ignoring the sharp pain that bit at his injured leg, he had more pressing matters to deal with. The boy hastily stumbled to the door, his jeans unraveling at the legs to fall passed his knees, Harry frowned at the tear in the left leg – these were his favourite pair of pants.

Panting from the strain to get down the stairs Harry stopped midway and gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white. His leg was being a bitch and with every step his muscle tightened and cramped on him, causing the boy to writhe in pain. His laboured breathing caught in his chest when he heard the swell of voices from the kitchen, eyes wide and palms sweaty, Harry clambered down the remaining stairs as stealthily as possible.

The wooden door was thin enough for Harry to hear passed and the boy pressed his ear up to the surface, holding his breath and listening carefully. He wasn't quite sure why he was eavesdropping; perhaps it was the secretive murmur of the voices behind the door, or the occasional chair being roughly pushed back across the tiled floor.

"– can't be sure, Lily." His father was saying, his voice rumbling deeply as the man kept his sound down; Harry pressed his slight body closer. The unmistakable noise of a coffee cup hitting the table top caught Harry's ears and then his mother spoke up.

"Might be best…just to be certain, we don't know for sure." Harry's dark brows furrowed deeply, try as he might he couldn't hear every single word said. His mother's voice in particular was difficult to catch for it was light and hushed.

A chair being adjusted and scrapped across the ground made Harry freeze, hoping they weren't coming his way. "We'll have to keep an eye on him, Lily – don't want to panic…may have just been a wolf."

"Of course it was a bloody wolf," Harry mouthed noiselessly, "it wasn't a big dog!"

"– should take him to the hospital, James. You know who it was."

_Who what was?_

"Not tonight, let him rest…check him out tomorrow and see what I can do."

Suddenly the scrapping sound of chairs and identical sighs sounded and Harry scampered away from the door, hobbling unsteadily on his feet and hoping to put some distance between the door and himself. The kitchen door swung open on its hinges and Harry turned as casually as he could to regard his parents. His mother's face looked shocked for a fraction of a second before splitting into a huge smile, one that made Harry's heart swell and burst with contentment.

"Harry, sweetie, I thought you'd still be asleep. How are you feeling?" Lily asked gently and took hold of Harry's wrists, her thumbs soothing comforting patterns over his skin. His father nodded and gave Harry a lopsided grin, however, his hazel eyes gave away the concern he so nonchalantly pushed aside. Harry shrugged. Truth be told he felt like crap.

Frowning his mother tugged him toward the kitchen, "how about some tea to settle your nerves?" she offered and didn't wait for a reply before getting to work boiling the jug, Harry slumped down at the table. From the doorway Harry noticed his father staring intently at him, feeling rather self-conscious under the unwavering gaze Harry scratched at the back of his neck and coughed. James dropped his eyes and watched his wife busy herself.

The room was thick with tension and Harry couldn't place why that was. His throat bubbled with the many questions he wanted to pose, but he kept silent and fiddled with the edge of the table, watching his bitten nail pick at the polished wood. "Don't scratch at the table, Harry," chided Lily quietly and placed down his cup of tea, the warm liquid steamed and smelt sweet and sugary. "Drink up, bubby." Harry flicked his eyes to his father and watched a crooked, half smile tug the man's lips upwards at the pet name.

Taking one long, scalding gulp from the cup Harry swallowed and was thankful for the hot trail the liquid left down his throat, it warmed him and he felt calmer. "What happened to, Ron?" he asked suddenly, catching his parent's off guard. Lily swallowed her sip of her own tea but James bet her to the answer.

"Just a nasty bite to his arm, Molly and Arthur took him to the hospital." His father looked uncomfortable and Harry's stomach twisted itself into a ball, he let out a whoosh of air through his nose. Poor Ron, he was the only one who had the guts to stand up to the wolf.

Taking another large mouthful of his tea Harry steadied his thoughts, "And everyone else? They got away okay, right?" he was aware of how young and afraid he sounded and winced inwardly. He was seventeen; he shouldn't sound like a frightened seven year old. His mother reached across the small table and grasped his hand in her own.

"Everyone else is alright, bubby. A bit shaken up, but that is expected." The swirling feeling of dread loosened in his chest and he felt better, his mother's calm gaze and warm touch helped also. "You should get some sleep, it's late."

Harry nodded his agreement, only realizing how sleepy he was feeling, "I got bitten." It wasn't a question, moreover a statement and his mother nodded, her eyes sad, lines appeared around her frowning lips and she adverted her stare. Harry was confused at her reaction. Surely a bite wasn't so bad. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't like he had been mangled or killed.

"Bed time, champ." His father said firmly and helped Harry to his feet, ignoring the boy's protest about his half full tea cup.

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><p>"Alright, lift you leg up, mate." Harry sighed for the umpteenth time that morning and lifted his leg so that his father could get a better view at the bite mark. James had insisted Harry wake up early the next morning and got to disinfecting the wound with alcohol, which to Harry's annoyance burnt like fire. He now sat sprawled out on the sofa, his legs resting over his father's lap. The bright morning light shone in through the large living room windows, warming Harry's skin nicely and making his sleepy. Only the sharp pain of his leg kept him from falling asleep.<p>

His father swiped at the scabbed over gash with a wet piece of paper towel, Harry hissed in warning and his leg flinched. "Sorry, mate. Almost done." Promised his father and dug the towel into the wound once more, cleaning away any dirt left.

Harry gritted his teeth, "you already washed it with alcohol, why do you need to do _that_!" Harry's voice jumped up a few octaves and the older man gave a chuckle, patting his son's leg in apology. He then bunched up the wet towel and pushed the boy's legs off his lap.

"If it's not clean it could get infected, Harry. I'm just making sure that doesn't happen." He explained calmly, despite this being the fifth time he had said the exact same sentence to the boy. Harry grumbled something under his breath and relaxed back onto the cushions. His mother had attempted to get his father to take him to the hospital, however, after a brief, whispered conversation the pair had decided against it. Harry hadn't spotted his mum since she had wondered off to clean up the garden – apparently having twenty odd people all rushing away from a wolf makes quite a mess. Harry was in half a mind to go help her, but the late morning sun was too warm and he closed his eyes sleepily.

"You tired, Harry?" Harry lazily opened his eyes and peered up at his father through his fringe, James' eyes were pinched, he looked wary. Harry shook his head and the fraught expression cleared from his fathers face. "Good, lad." Harry smiled at the rough tone, wondering why his father had been so on edge this morning. Perhaps he was just uneasy about last night. Harry still was.

The shrill jingle of his mobile startled Harry and he rolled sleepily off the couch and on to the ground, crawling over to the coffee table he grab the vibrating silver object and flipped it open, the blue light was bright to his eyes even in the daylight. "Hullo?" he answered.

"Harry, mate? It's Ron, how are you?" Harry was awake instantaneously and a big smile stretched his lips, Ron must be much better if he was making phone calls.

"I'm okay, how about you? Dad said you took a pretty nasty bite." 'Pretty nasty' was an understatement, Harry had seen the amount of blood staining the wolfs' mouth and chin, Ron was a lucky son of a bitch.

A small chuckle came from the redhead's end, "yeah, it was sick as. Got down to my bone, you should have seen it!" Harry's tummy did flips of unease and he scowled, he didn't think he'd like to have seen it.

"All good now?" he asked as casually as possible, he didn't want to seem too soft in front of Ron, even though he doubted the boy would mind much. The line was silent for a moment and then Ron's voice mumbled something, clearly to someone at his end.

"Sorry, Ginny's being a prick, keeps talking to me, and yeah all good now mate."

"Your families there? You should be talking to them, not me." Harry said lightly and Ron made a grunting noise, Harry pushed off the floor and back onto the sofa watching out of the windows, he could see his mother digging around in the garden, obviously she had finished cleaning up.

"They have been here all morning." Ron groaned, "I need someone sane to talk to," the smile in his tone was evident and Harry gave a chortle. "What happened to the wolf? I was out cold not long after being bitten."

Harry frowned, he hadn't actually thought to ask what had become of the wolf, and he had presumed his father had shot it. "I'm not sure what happened to it. It chased me and Cho a fair way though and the dad came to help – think he shot it." Harry finished uncertainly, Ron whistled lowly.

"It chased you? Fuck, that must have been barmy."

"It wasn't fun – that's for sure. I can't believe there was a wolf." Harry said and relaxed back into the sofa, his eyes lazily following his mother's movements as she gardened.

"Middleton is surrounded by forest and hills, Harry; it's kind of not unusual for there to be animals." Ron stated.

Harry rolled his eyes, "I know that, Ron. But a wolf? Isn't that kind of odd, even if there are forests?"

The redhead snorted and laughed quietly, "Might have been a werewolf, it was a full moon last night." He joked and then snorted again; Harry couldn't help grinning at Ron's odd laugh. However, the tight sensation in his stomach that had lingered ever since last night roiled and Harry found himself shivering.

"I've got to go, mate. Talk soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry responded before the line when dead. He heaved a breath and arched his back in a stretch, entertaining the idea of the wolf actually being a werewolf – it was absurd of course, werewolves didn't exist. The image of the large wolf flashed in Harry's mind and simultaneously his injury gave a sharp ache, Harry gasped and bit his bottom lip.

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><p>The flashing lights from the television were interrupting Harry's reading; thankfully his mum had taken pity on him and had the volume down low. Harry flipped through his book, reading quickly and basking in the feeling of being full with a vegetable casserole his mother had made for dinner – much to his fathers disappointment. The news man was talking seriously about something or another and Harry wouldn't have paid much attention if his mother hadn't clicked the volume up louder.<p>

"– Reports today that a young child, whose name is withheld by the families wishes, was tragically killed in a horrendous attack that saw the young girls throat ripped out by a 'big dog'." The reported paused after finishing his sentence and James took the pause to speak, however, Lily cut him off.

"Fenrir…"

Harry looked confusedly at his mother who had gone ashen, her hands covering her gaping mouth. Harry sat up straighter in his chair.

"Who's Fenrir?" he asked inquisitively and peered at his mother through his wayward bangs. She didn't look his way, but continued to stare at the television screen. The blue glow from the news show making her face look ghostly.

"Lily, why don't we change the channel?" James commented firmly and sent a look that Harry couldn't decipher towards the pale woman. Fumbling with the remote Lily switched the channel to some uninteresting game show, Harry's attention diminished and he buried his nose in his book once more, missing the meaningful look his parent's shared.

When silence, save for the hum of the television, reined Harry looked up, put out to see both his parent's sitting stiffly on the sofa. "What's the matter?" he asked and they snapped their attention toward Harry, both plastering on fake smiles that Harry saw right through.

"Nothing, sweetie, just a little disturbed about the were – uh, the dog attack, is all." Harry frowned towards his mum and she gave a tight laugh, "nothing to bother about, bubby." She said and his dad nodded his agreement.

Harry flashed a small smile and pretended to be satisfied. He was anything but. It wasn't often his parent's took a news story to heart, sure they would frown about it and discuss things over coffee in the mornings but never had he seen his mum so putout. Something was off and Harry intended to figure it out. His mum and dad had been acting strangely ever since Harry had been bitten. Did they think him weak for being attack by a wolf?

A sharp rap at the front door startled the three of them and they jerked to attention in unison. Harry jumped to his feet and jogged to open the front door, anything to get away from the odd atmosphere of the living room. When he pulled the door open he was shocked into a hitched breath that caught somewhere between his chest and throat, it hurt, but Harry daren't take his eyes away from the imposing sight before him. A large, burly man stood on the door step, his broad shoulders draped in a leather jacket that was worn and old. Long, shaggy black hair fell to the man's elbows and Harry nibbled on his lip when dark, coal eyes locked with his.

The man smiled and Harry noticed the slow leer revealed a set of dirty teeth. For a long moment neither one of them said a word, the silence stretching thickly between them. Then Harry heard his mother call out and his breath escaped his lips with a gush.

"Harry, who is it?" She came around the corner and stopped dead in her tracks, something told Harry it wasn't the man's overwhelming stature that had caused her reaction. The man inclined his head stiffly towards Lily and Harry watched in awe as she did the same in reply. "Wolfe." She sniffed disdainfully. It was such a different side of his mother it astounded Harry and he didn't realize that his father had entered the parlor.

"A pleasure as always, Evans." The man made it sound like anything but a pleasure. Harry took a step backwards towards his mother, feeling like a frightened child hiding from a stranger.

His mother scowled openly, "it's Potter now, we married." A dark gaze swept over Harry and the boy shivered under the scrutiny. It felt like he was bare, naked in front of the man. He dropped his eyes and studied his feet carefully. Not sure why he was acting like a child. He was seventeen damn it.

"Wedlock?" he mocked and made it sound like a trap, Harry narrowed his eyes; he took an instant disliking to the man.

James stepped forward and wrapped a protective arm around Lily's waist, cupping her hip strongly. "What do you want, Wolfe?" he asked and Harry swallowed hard at the deep, harsh sound of his dad's voice. He wasn't use to seeing either of his parent's so tense. It unnerved him.

The large man chuckled and crossed his arms across his thick chest, "just thought I'd come get a glimpse of my _pup_." He drawled slowly. Lily stepped forward and raised her finger as if in warning, her lips open ready to spew forth a reprimand, James' stopped her and flicked his gaze to watch Harry, something in his father's eyes made Harry's tummy drop. The man looked afraid of him and Harry hated seeing such an emotion on his dad's face.

"Calm yourself, Lily. Wolfe, I'm asking you to leave immediately. If you do not I will call the police." Harry's head hurt; apparently he was the only one who didn't know what was happening. He hated it.

"I doubt they could do much against me." Wolfe said cockily and looked down his nose at Harry, watching the small boy before him glare and stare right back. "I'll see you again, pup." He said to Harry and then turned to leave. The door closed with a bang that brought Harry into speech.

"Who was –?"

"Go to your room, Harry." Harry looked incredulously at his father. _What?_

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, uncertain, "but, I want to –"

"Now Harry!" The fierce gleam in the hazel eyes was enough to put the boy on edge and he sulkily took to the stairs, making sure to thump up each step heavily so as to show his parent's he wasn't a happy boy. Before reaching the top he caught wind of his mother speaking quietly.

"– he will come back…been confirmed, we have to act quickly…"

Act quickly about what? And what had been confirmed? Harry's irritation burned and he sighed, slamming his bedroom door shut with force before flopping onto his bed.

He hated his life sometimes.

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><p>R&amp;R? ;)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**-CHAPTER THREE: Flight of the Pup- **

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><p>"Harry breakfast is ready!" Sang Lily cheerfully from the bottom of the stairs, Harry mumbled something disjointed and shoved his head under his pillow. He wasn't about to just forget the unfair way his parent's had ushered him away last night, neither was he going to let slide Mr. Wolfe or what the hell that man had meant. Harry stomach growled at him and Harry mentally promised it some bacon when he got dressed – <em>bacon<em>?

"Fucking hell, what is wrong with me?" Harry questioned to the room and sat up, his pillow falling to the floor. He hated meat, and bacon was definitely no exception. Where had such a craving come from? Climbing out of bed Harry grabbed for his jeans, wincing when the small action made his muscles seize up. His brain twirled in his skull and Harry thought he might throw up, leaning heavily on his dresser the boy gasped for some air to calm his queasy stomach. "Get a grip, Harry."

Throwing on his clothes and rushing down stairs Harry met with his mother and father who were sitting at the kitchen table. His dad seemed engrossed in the newspaper and his mum was chewing on a strip of bacon, Harry stomach gurgled loudly and he inhaled the scent of freshly cooked, crispy bacon. He didn't know what had come over him, but suddenly he really, _really_ wanted some. His mouth was watering and he sat heavily at the table.

"Your toast is on the bench, sweetie." His mum said and smiled at Harry. Harry shifted until she raised one elegant eyebrow in askance, "something the matter?"

Harry picked at the table, running his thumb tip along the smooth wood, "No not really, I was just thinking I would have some bacon instead." To his right his dad coughed and fumbled with the newspaper, his fingers gripping the edges so hard Harry feared it might tear in half.

Emerald eyes meet hazel and Harry noticed the silent communication his parent's shared.

"Are you sure, Harry? You've never eaten meat before. What if you don't like it?" His mum's eyes were bright with some unnamed emotion and Harry felt like she was pleading silently with him not to have any. His stomach twisted in hunger and he stood up, walking over to the bench.

Grabbing an empty plate Harry flashed his mum a smile, "if I don't like it, dad can have it." He said simply and laid two pieces of bacon on his plate. Sitting back down Harry was more then aware of his parent's watching him carefully, each movement he made was studied and Harry almost wished he could snap at them and tell them not to stare. He quelled his annoyance, wondering where the sudden flare of emotion had come from and placed his teeth around the bacon, biting into it cleanly. The taste was pure bliss and he moaned happily. How come he hadn't tried bacon before? It was mouthwatering.

"Can I have more?" he queried after he finished his two strips and without waiting for an answer jumped up to grab a plateful of the delicious meat. Dimly, Harry was aware that his father was watching him with anxious eyes and his mother was colorless, but it wasn't concerning him when he had such delicious food in front of him.

"Maybe you should slow down, mate?" his father joked, but the tone was more troubled. Harry looked up confused. A sound on the doorstep caught his attention and he perked up.

"Someone's at the door." He said through a mouthful of bacon, his fathers' hazel eyes narrowed in puzzlement before they widened at the sound of sharp knocking at the front door. His mum jumped quickly to her feet, staring at him in a way that made Harry's tummy plummet.

"How did you know –" his father stopped mid sentence and Harry's neck snapped around when the sound of his mum's muffled scream met his ears. "Lily!" James called and got to his feet, his eyes shifty, a breath of a second later the piercing cry of a shotgun rang out, tearing through the house. Harry dropped his food and ran for the front door.

"MUM!"

The gripping claws of panic clutched at Harry's heart, squeezing so tightly he felt he might pass out. His skin felt blistered with shards of glass and every part of his body was humming with adrenalin. With wide eyes the boy ran into the small parlor, his breathing caught in his throat and the silent scream that climbed from his twisting stomach parted his lips. Scarlet ribbons of blood dribbled down the white walls, leaving tear trails in their wake. The soft carpet was stained under a pool of cooling blood and Harry dropped to his knees with a strangled cry beside the lifeless figure of his mother, her lips were open in a frozen gasp and her bright green eyes fixed unseeingly toward the ceiling. If it wasn't for the opening in the back of her head and the blood rushing freely from it, Harry would have overlooked the small bullet wound that decorated her forehead, dead-on between her eyes. A single trail of blood trickled down the woman's nose and over her bloodless lips.

The hasty footfalls of his father made Harry look around, the man's hair was skewed and his eyes blazed with anger, "get on your stomach, Harry! Now!" Harry didn't question the order and flopped down belly first, a moment later the blasting echo of a gun rang out and a bullet lodged itself into the wall next to Harry, shattering the plaster and sending debris into the air. Looking up the boy saw a group of men; all of them wore leather and held handguns and they were all pointing unswervingly at Harry.

"Back up!" ordered James and Harry pressed his small body into the ground, hating how the carpet squelched under his palms, wet with his mother's blood. The men didn't recoil at the commanding voice; they hadn't taken their eyes off of Harry. Harry felt his father come closer, the man's heavy breathing the only sign he was livid. "I said, back up." Harry shivered at the whisper and panted, his eyes trying to avoid the sight of his mother's corpse. He could smell the stench of blood and brain tissue and bile rushed up from his throat, burning his mouth as he threw up.

"We won't. Not until this mutt is killed." Harry jerked his body when the tallest man waved his weapon at him, "it didn't have to be this way, James." The man stated and motioned a careless hand toward the insipid, motionless, Lily. Harry choked on a sob and pushed his body into a kneel. The men tightened their grips and their stances became wary.

"You knew your son was turned, we gave you time to deal with it, instead you ignored it. _It_ is a monster, James. A hunter like you ought to know that by now." _Hunter?_ Harry head hurt and he whimpered, turning to face his father, the man's hands trembled and Harry noticed the silver handgun he held. Inquiring green eyes looked up at the tall man. James seemed to be debating something, his lips drawn into a thin line and his eyes narrowed, loud breaths pushed from his nose.

"D – Dad?" Harry said and his voice was gravelly, his throat hurt from throwing up, "what are they talking about?" A deep chuckle crammed the room and Harry flinched when a gun cocked and aimed at him. His father didn't move, not to point his own gun nor to stop the men in their actions.

The tall man moved closer to the kneeling boy, "he doesn't know?" he said and another chuckle left his mouth, "the _mutt_ doesn't know what he is?" Harry saw from the corner of his eye his dad shifting, his dad was unsure and that made Harry's body ache with alarm. "I'll tell him then shall I?" the man leant forward, his gun still aimed straight and true, "guess what little boy," he taunted, "you're a werewolf." He growled mockingly and then took a sudden step forward, touching the cold mouth of the gun between Harry's eyes.

"And because daddy dearest didn't deal with you properly, he has to watch as his family is killed." Harry's insides felt like they were on fire and he growled, his lips sneering back to show his teeth. He wasn't sure why such an action happened but the man's eyes flickered with something akin to fear and Harry growled again, deeper this time. "Get the bloody rope, you fools!" the man snapped and the three men behind him lumbered out the door.

"First I'm going to tie you up, _dog_, and then I will show you just how precise I can be with a knife." Harry's chest hurt and his stomach was clenching painfully. He didn't know if it was from his terror but he snapped his jaws and snarled his body sweating profusely as he did so. The man gave a loud chuckle and drew back his arm, ready to strike the boy before him. Harry's eyes burned and he wondered what the hell was happening to him. The man swiped his hand through the air and Harry lunged, his teeth bared and mouth open, before either hunter or boy could make sense of the situation Harry had clamped the man's wrist securely in his mouth.

"You fucking mutt!" the man yelled and wrenched his arm backwards, Harry was dragged forward with the movement and bit down harder, his teeth piercing the skin, hot blood swelled into his mouth and tickled his tongue with the taste of copper. Harry swallowed the liquid eagerly before a sharp pain bloomed in his right temple – he whimpered and passed out. His last thought wondering why his father hadn't done anything to help him. The boy's limp body fell over that of his mother's.

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><p>Harry's wrists hurt, they burned and he groaned when he realized he couldn't move them. Strong rope had been fastened around his thin wrists, tying them behind his back awkwardly; it chaffed his delicate skin and rubbed it raw. His ankles were bound in a similar manner. Harry opened his eyes only to shut them quickly, the face of his mother was right before him, her lips were blue and her eyes seemed clouded. The wound on her forehead was bruising. It disturbed him how death could take her so quickly; how it could taint her with its cold hands. Her typically lively eyes were so empty now and her skin was ashen, almost grey and waxy. It made Harry's tummy churn and he feared he would vomit again.<p>

A shuffling sound made the boy snap his eyes open, "well, it looks like the mutt is awake. Time to have our fun." Harry tried to sit up when a pair of boots entered his line of vision but his head pained and he fell limp on the ground, a small whine on his lips. The hunters' laughed at him and Harry felt tears burn at his eyes. A rough hand forcefully dragged Harry up into a sitting position and he was placed against the wall, the sticky feel of his mother's cold blood seeped into his t-shirt.

Blinking to clear away the white dots that had appeared in front of him Harry looked up, the man who had hit him leered down at him, and a knife was held in his hand, its hoary blade glistened. "What first, mutt? Shall I pull out your nails or pierce your veins?" Harry threw his head from side to side and gave a sob, it only served to make the men surrounding him laugh louder. The blades tip was placed against Harry's smooth cheek violently and slowly, with obvious relish, the hunter drew a line downwards, the skin split easily under the slight pressure and then crimson cried from the abrasion, coating Harry's face red.

"Stop," Harry made sure not to make a noise, he didn't want the men to know how much it had hurt. At the sound of his father's voice the boy looked up sharply. Standing at the end of the stair case and completely unharmed was his dad. "Don't do _this_."

The hunter sneered at Harry but didn't turn around to face James, "you know what he is, we can't let him live." To Harry's horror his father agreed with a nod of his head, his lips frowning.

"I know, but you don't need to torture him. Just be done with it."

"This mutt is the reason your wife lay dead in her own home, and you're telling me to take mercy on him." James' hazel eyes flashed with grief and his nostrils flared, the man refused to look down at the sprawled form of his wife. Bloodied and defeated because of her own child.

Harry let his lips tremble at that. "I'm not a mutt!" he stated and was proud when his voice didn't tremble. The knife was brought up to his throat, directly over his jugular, Harry's pulse quickened and his skin jumped with tiny beats.

"Do you know how fast someone bleeds out when their jugular is cut?" Harry glared at the hunter, hating the feel of the man's breath against his face, "one minute and you're brain dead, not long after that your body dies too. Blood loss is an agonizing thing. You'll vomit and suffocate and your organs will slowly die." The blade pressed into his skin, a sharp pain blossomed and Harry hissed, his green eyes hastening to swirl with intermingled amber. The hunter paid no attention to the colour of Harry's eyes and instead begun moving the knife. Harry cried out as the sharp edge bit into his skin, drawing a pattern over the pale, sensitive flesh.

"You're a special one, boy. You have merged with your wolf side numerous times since I've been here. You'll make a strong werewolf – or should I say you would have made a strong werewolf. I don't plan on letting you live." The knife was brought away from his skin and Harry breathed out heavily, the pain now soothing slightly, it was short lived however and he gave a shout when the knife was brought down, stabbing the boy in the gut. For a moment Harry felt nothing and then his senses caught up to him and his abdomen screamed with pain, his skin and muscles seemed to split in half and blood rushed to the surface of the wound with frightening speed.

"Son of a bitch!" Harry heard his father yell and then a squelchy sound met his ears, a moment later his father had fallen to his knees, hands clutching his belly and mouth gaping. "Harry," the man said breathlessly and Harry groaned in pain, his t-shirt wet with blood.

"I told you not to interfere, James." Harry's mouth was moving, silently screaming for his father who fell forward, his shaking body held up on unsteady arms, James coughed and the wet sound of blood in his throat made Harry want to run to his side. His rope bonds were too tight and he forced his voice to yell loudly – unintelligible, screaming words left his tongue. He was twisting his hurting, and bleeding body at angels to loosen his restraints but it was in vain. He hoped the neighbor's had heard his yells and the gun shots, surely they had? Why wasn't any one coming to help?

"Shut the fuck up, mutt!" shouted one of the hunters and kicked out at Harry, the boy whined pathetically in pain and slumped over onto his side, his abdomen was bleeding profusely and Harry wondered when he would faint from blood loss. "Give me the gun; I'll end its life now." Harry's head spun in circles and his fingers and toes were getting cold, he was hemorrhaging out. His heart was raging against his ribs, desperately wanting more blood, more oxygen.

The corpse of his mother and his writhing form of his father was in his direct line of vision. "Say a prayer, mutt." The mouth of the gun was placed once more to Harry's head, and the boy shut his eyes and sobbed brokenly. Four shots rang out in quick succession and Harry jerked his body in response. The sharp pain of a gun falling into his face made him open his eyes and he watched with dethatched horror as the hunter standing over him sunk to his knees, a red rose blossoming on his chest, right over his heart. He'd been shot.

"Please – please take my son…someplace safe." Harry's eyes were heavy and half lidded with exhaustion when he turned them to the sound of his father's raspy voice. The man was staring at a large man, whose silver-blond hair fell to his shoulders in a tangle. Narrowed, ocher eyes faced Harry and the boy whined quietly at the man, knowing instantly he was a werewolf. The strong untamed scent of danger was thick around the man. "Fenrir – please, _please_…"

_Fenrir? Who was he?_

_How had the man got here? Why was he here?_

"I came here to finish off the hunters who were threatening my pack, not to help out some wayward hunter."

James coughed and blood spilled from his lips, dribbling down his chin, "he was turned – turned by…"

"Wolfe. I know I can smell his scent on the pup."

"Wolfe – Wolfe can't – he can't look after, Harry." James said weakly and Harry watched as tremors of pain shot through the man's hunched figure. The werewolf, Fenrir, was watching James with an emotionless expression, a black handgun was held in his right hand by his side. Harry whimpered when he saw the fallen forms of the hunters, each shot through the heart. It was a gruesome sight, but strangely it calmed the boy in knowing the biggest danger was no more.

"Wolfe _won__'__t_ look after the boy. He's a lone wolf. He shouldn't have even turned the kid."

James shook his head and grimaced in pain, shooting Harry an aggrieved look, "he came to the house, looking for _his_ pup." James said as loudly as possible and slumped over with a wracking cough. Fenrir flashed his attention to Harry, who arched his back in pain, his insides felt watery and squishy. Fenrir approached him and Harry stifled a cough that climbed his throat. The man was huge and all muscle.

"When?" The werewolf bit out through gritted teeth.

"Last night, he bit him not a day ago – I've – I've seen the signs, he's changing quickly." James stated dimly, his voice a mere whisper of sound. Harry was surprised he had caught the words. Fenrir crouched down next to Harry, running disdainful eyes over the dead form of the hunter and the stiff figure of Lily. The werewolf seemed oblivious to the blood. "Please keep him safe."

Fenrir reached out and Harry felt the ropes loosen before snapping off his wrists, he sighed a pant of relief and gingerly moved his hands over his middle, protecting his wounded body. "A _hunter_ pleading with a _werewolf_ to protect his _turned_ son. How very touching." Harry's ankles were released by a slash of the man's nail; the nail itself looked more like a claw.

Harry moaned when the werewolf placed his hands over the stab wound and James hissed in warning. "If Wolfe get's him…Greyback, you can't let him. He'll destroy Harry."

"And most the werewolf population if the pup is indeed his sired sub." Harry didn't know what was happening, he didn't really want to know, all he knew was that his abdomen was throbbing and his head pounded from lack of blood, his vision kept blurring on him and he whined like a puppy in distress. Fenrir pushed his palms to the wound to stop the flow of blood and turned to James. "What makes you think he'll be safe with me? I'm no saint. If I take him, I'll only be putting myself and my pack in danger."

James looked up, his eyes dull and skin pallid, Harry sobbed and reached out his hand towards his dad. The man gave a small, lopsided smile to Harry. "Compared to Wolfe, you're a saint." He said hoarsely and his shoulders dropped, Harry's hand reached further over the blood stained carpet.

"Dad?" he said timidly, ignoring the amber eyes that burned into him, watching him intently. "Dad – dad please…" James looked up, the simple action seemed to drain him of strength and his lips moved soundlessly. Harry's cheeks were hot with his tears and he wriggled, wanting to get closer to his dad. "Daddy," he didn't care that his voice broke or that he sounded like a child, he was afraid and his father was slipping away from him, someplace Harry couldn't bring him back from.

Fenrir tightened his hold on Harry and pushed him down, quelling the boy's words with a harsh glare. "Harry," James rasped, "I'm sorry – love – love you, mate." He trained his eyes on Fenrir and his eyes were over bright with tears, "please, Fenrir," he said and Harry sobbed at the hush of his father's normally vocal voice. Fenrir growled and Harry cried out loudly when his father slumped against the ground, his body motionless and his chest still. A puddle of blood dripped steadily from his slightly parted lips.

Harry's body went numb and his heart exploded with misery. "Dad! NO!" he tried to fight off the werewolf and crawl to his dad, slapping at the large hands that held his body. His stomach lurched and stabbed with pain and Harry once again fell into the dark abyss of unconsciousness. His dad's lifeless body the last thing he saw and the smell of fresh death and blood thick to his senses.

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><p>Finally some Fenrir action ;) Please tell me what you thought?<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Just a quick **THANK YOU** to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. Thank you beautifuls! :)

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><p><strong>-CHAPTER FOUR: Help Me Please?-<strong>

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><p>"– can't believe you brought home a pup." An incredulous feminine voice was saying.<p>

"It's not like you to do a hunter a favour." Rumbled a male and shifting could be heard as though someone was coming closer to the bedside.

"Not just any hunter, Elvy – James Potter. He killed off Wolfe's entire pack a few years back." Another male's voice.

Harry could hear the voices that surrounded him but couldn't make a move to show them they were being overheard. His belly ached and felt tight and his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. The mattress he was resting on was hard and lumpy and the strong smell of wet leaves and undergrowth assailed his nose. A large but gentle hand cupped his cheek and Harry quelled his flinch.

"He's just a puppy, Fenrir, and a submissive, how are we going to look after him? We already have a submissive." It was the same woman's voice, however, this time her tone was soft and cooed at Harry. Harry shifted on the bed and winced at the sharp stab that pained through his gut at the action. Immediately the warm hand on his face slid downward and pushed at his shoulder, holding him still. "Don't move little one, it will only aggravate your injury." Harry opened his eyes and looked straight into azure coloured eyes, they were large and friendly. The woman smiled and her sandy hair fell about her face. Her skin was lined slightly with age.

"Where," Harry's voice croaked and he licked his lips, "where am I?" he inquired softly, blinking his gritty eyes. His tongue felt heavy and the lingering taste of blood settled on his teeth. The emotions and memories of what happened slapped Harry like a wall of wind and he blanched. The woman let go of his shoulder and brushed back his bangs tenderly, it was such a motherly action and it brought back images of his mum lying frozen, lifeless, dead on the floor of her home. Pushing the silky hair away from the boy's sweating forehead the woman tsked when it bounced back into Harry's eyes.

"You're in Wolf-Cove forest, on the out skirts of Middleton. How are you feeling?" Harry ignored the question and instead tried to sit up. His stomach cramped and his arms wobbled underneath him but he managed it. It was only once he was sitting, rather inelegantly, that he noticed the other occupants of the room. With wide eyes Harry's gaze skipped from each person in turn.

A stumpy, short man stood closest to Harry, his chubby tummy protruding nakedly. He wore only a pair of slacks, which looked to have seen better days. His hair was straight and stuck to his head, the light flaxen blending in with the man's pale skin. He gave Harry a grin when he noticed the boy's attention on him, and sharp, white canines flashed in the dim light.

Another man stood a few feet away by the doorway, his wild, shaggy hair was pure white and brushed his shoulders. Harry was surprised to see the man's muscular form; he was almost as big a Fenrir. He was young, probably around his mid thirties. Finally Harry's eyes landed on the last occupant. Fenrir. Harry's breathing became ragged at the sight of the broad shoulders and glowing ocher eyes that were locked directly at him. Harry had the startling impulse to lower his gaze, he didn't and Fenrir flashed his teeth threateningly.

"Eye's down, pup." He snapped quietly and Harry made short work of fixing his attention back to the woman by his bedside. She gave him a small smile, a gesture Harry couldn't manage to return. He felt empty and alone and his body ached with misery. He wanted to cry and break down, to rage and scream – he couldn't. His entire body just felt numb, like it had been plunged into ice-cold water. Closing his eyes tightly Harry focused on keeping his breathing steady, he would not cry. Not in front of complete strangers.

"This is Elvy, the Omega." Harry peeked up at the deep voice of Fenrir, he was pointing toward the chubby, short man and Harry watched as Elvy smiled at him once again, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Harry didn't know what it was about the man, but something set him on edge and he grimaced, trying a smile that wouldn't come. "This here is Moior. He is the Beta of the pack. My second, if you need something and I'm not nearby go to him."

_Omega?__Beta?_Harry's head was beginning to ache with confusion.

"Alright, pup?" asked the man and nodded at Harry, his white hair framed his solid jaw line. Harry swallowed and tried for some words.

"Yeah," he managed in a rasping voice; Moior flashed a grin at the newest pack member. His powder blue eyes were kind and Harry felt relaxed in his presence despite his foreboding form and large shoulders.

Fenrir cleared his throat and the attention of the occupants snapped back to him with surprising speed, "lastly the woman next to you is –"

"Cace, pack member and surrogate mother to this lot," she sent Harry a rakish wink and pointed her thumb at the three men. Harry gave her a tiny smile that barely lifted the corners of his lips. She returned it fully and ruffled his hair. "Cute little thing aren't you?" she said casually.

"Cute as he is, Cace, we really must let him settle in to his new surroundings. We will bring you some food later, pup." Moior said and gently dragged the smiling Cace away from Harry's bed.

Harry frowned, "I'm not hungry."

Fenrir stopped at the doorway, ushering out Elvy as he did so, "your human side isn't, but your wolf is. It needs food to survive the next full moon." Harry gnashed his teeth and hummed angrily in his throat, glaring at the tall man. He hated being this _creature_ – now that he knew what he was he saw the signs as plain as day. His obsession with meat, his sense of acute hearing and his eye sight was getting clearer, normally he wore contact lenses. He didn't want to be a damned werewolf. It was the reason his parents were dead.

"Don't be foolish boy, eat what we give you." Growled Fenrir with a flash of his teeth and then he left the room, he let the door bash shut with a loud ricochet, leaving Harry alone in an unfamiliar room with nothing but his terrible thoughts and memories to occupy him.

He wished they would all stop calling him _pup_ and stop going on about Omega's and Beta's and bloody fucking confusing things. He just wanted to close his eyes and wake up out of this nightmare. Wake up and have his mum and dad back and not lying cold in their home. Dead. They were dead, forever gone.

Burying his face in his hands Harry gave a shout of frustration. Surely the other werewolves would hear him screaming, he didn't give a fuck however and continued to yell into his palms, his breath and tears warm against his skin.

"Fucking _HELL_!" his throat hurt, his stomach hurt, his head hurt – everything _hurt_. Especially his emotions, they were raw and broken. He didn't think he could ever feel better. It wasn't possible when he had lost his whole world within a few short hours. It was all taken on him. He would never get to watch his mother garden and talk about the different varieties of tomatoes. He would never get to roughhouse with his father. He was left here, and they were somewhere out of his reach. In a place he longed to be.

Wiping at his wet cheeks and dripping nose Harry sat up straighter, promising silently that he would be with his parent's shortly. Life was pointless without his family.

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><p>The room was small and relatively cozy. A simple single bed was against the wall and a wooden desk that had random books scattered on its surface was in the corner. A thick shaggy rug that was just as soft as it looked covered most of the floor, which was solid concrete. Harry sat on the creaky bed, his eyes rimmed red from crying and his skin flushed with emotions that coiled in his tummy and chest.<p>

Watching the stars outside the square window of the room, Harry sighed, the night was dark despite the sky being clear and scattered with thousand of pinprick stars that winked and shone brightly. Harry could just make out the small half-moon that was cradled in the dark abyss, somewhere deep inside of him his wolf was purring and keening at the sight. He ignored that part of him and stubbornly turned away from the sight.

It had been a few hours since the pack had left him alone. Harry hadn't moved an inch and his legs ached with the need to stretch. He ignored his body and retreated further into his thoughts. He had stopped crying after the first two hours, running out of tears and strength to keep it up. His eyes now burnt and felt gritty and sleepy. He wouldn't sleep however. Swallowing thickly when the scent of meat hit his senses Harry shut his tired eyes. Crying always made him lethargic. Whenever he was little his mother would always rock him in her arms until he had cried himself out and fallen asleep. Now she couldn't do that. Ever.

A knock at the door made the boy look up, his hair falling into his face, the heavy wooden door opened a second later and Moior poked his head inside. "I brought you food." He said unnecessarily and swept his eyes over the huddled form of Harry. Harry looked away and fiddled with his jeans. "It's steak and potatoes. I hope that's alright." The older werewolf placed the plate on the mattress, next to Harry's knee.

"I'm not hungry." Said Harry stoically, he didn't bother to look at the man. He didn't have the energy.

Moior shifted and then awkwardly placed his hand on Harry's small shoulder; the touch was so gentle Harry thought perhaps the werewolf thought he would break Harry. "Listen, pup –"

Harry's eyes narrowed and he snapped, "Don't call me that. It's Harry – I have a name." If Moior was startled by the outburst he hid it well. Dropping his hand from Harry's shoulder he sighed.

"I'm dominate over you, I'm far older – therefore I will call you pup. Is that understood?" his voice wasn't unkind; however, it was low and held an underlining forewarning. Harry shrugged and turned his face away. Callous fingers gripped his chin and tugged his head back. Moior looked at Harry with a frown on his lips.

"You are in our pack now, there's nothing you can do to change what has happened. I know you went through traumatic events today. You will have time to grieve, just don't put your own life at risk while doing so. Do you want your parent's death to be in vain? They died to protect you."

"They died _because_ of me you bastard –" Moior slapped Harry's jaw lightly, but it was enough to stop the boy's words. Blue eyes flushed with amber as the man merged with his wolf. Harry would have been unnerved if he hadn't been so numb and apathetic.

Moior let go of Harry's chin and took a step back, "don't speak down to me, _pup_. Stop being so self-involved, you're not the only one who has had it tough." He snapped sharply and walked swiftly from the room.

Harry glared at the closed door and bit his tongue to keep his curse words in his mouth and not out loud. Making an incomprehensible noise in the back of his throat Harry swiped the plate off the bed, watching in satisfaction as the plate cracked in two and the contents of the plate spilled onto the rug. His belly growled a moment later but he refused to eat off the floor. Flopping down onto his back and wincing at the sharp throb from his wound Harry cursed softly under his breath.

* * *

><p>Moior was worried. The newest pack member was a feisty little creature but he could smell the depression surrounding the pup. It was thick in Harry's room and disturbed the older werewolf.<p>

The half-moon shone its beauty down on the court yard Moior was striding through. The paved quarter was large and open to the nights unpleasantly cold air. It was nearing winter and the scent of rain was lingering in each breath of wind. Leaves and small twigs were kicked up by a forceful gush of air and scattered about his feet. "Fenrir," said Moior when he came across his Alpha standing in the archway leading to the eatery, "I've given the pup his food." His dominate nodded briskly.

"Did he eat it?"

"I don't know," uncertainty laced his reply and he quelled the urge to bite his lip, "he isn't dealing too well with what has happened." Moior decided to be honest. No doubt Fenrir could smell the scent of depression as well; he had keen senses like the rest of them.

Fenrir snarled in his throat and Moior took a step backwards, the Alpha turned and his eyes were fully amber, what little of the moon that was showing was having an effect on him. It always did after a few days past the full-moon. "He's weak. He needs to grow up and accept the fact that bad things happen. He's doing nothing good for his health or the health of his wolf." Crossing his arms across his chest the Alpha huffed a breath, it fogged in the cooling air.

"He's still young, Fenrir, you have to understand that. The memories of what happened are very fresh, you know better then anyone how difficult it is for newly turned werewolves to accept themselves. He needs space." If it was anyone else in the pack Fenrir would have had them on their back, neck arched and pleading in submission. Moior was different. He had known the large man since childhood. He could get away with a lot more then the others.

Fenrir clenched his jaw and it pulsed, "what he needs is a good cuff around the ear. He needs to be looking out for his wolf or come the next full-moon he won't live past the transformation." Moior knew Fenrir well enough to know the man wasn't as irate as he made out to be. Fenrir was a good leader and a splendid Alpha; he watched over his pack with careful eyes and always made sure the members were happy and healthy. Just because Harry was a new pack member didn't mean he was going to be overlooked.

"I want you to inform the others to meet me in the eatery. I should explain the circumstances in detail." Before Moior had a chance to reply his Alpha had swept through the double doors and down the steps leading to the large eatery. It was designed for a pack of over forty members, as it was Fenrir only had four members, five including the puppy. Turning on his heel the tall man took off to round up his pack mates, his snow white hair danced dissonantly over his forehead and he sniffed the air. Something was off. He could feel it.

* * *

><p>"As you are all aware we now have a new werewolf in the pack," Fenrir said and looked down the large table at his horde. They nodded and he continued, "the circumstances are a bit more complicated then me just taking in a turned werewolf," Elvy shifted in his seat and Fenrir held up his hand, stopping the man's words before they came. "Yes, I did do James Potter a favor, however it is for the simple reason that Harry was turned by Wolfe."<p>

Mutters tittered about the table and Fenrir allowed his pack to share worried glances, "it's bad enough he's the son of a hunter, Fenrir, but the sired pup of Wolfe? Do you know how dangerous this is? If Wolfe finds out, and no doubt he will, our entire pack will be in jeopardy." It was Cace who spoke up and her azure eyes flashed with unease, Fenrir didn't scold her for talking out of turn, he couldn't be bothered, not when he felt the same way.

Resting his forearms heavily on the wooden surface of the table he kept his gaze steady, he wouldn't show his trepidation to his pack. "It is believed that Wolfe is many years old and that when his desired submissive is found he will rise above all to take leadership of the werewolf community," the story was a well known tale that all werewolves had heard as pups. Wolfe had once ruled over the werewolves and his tactics were considered sadistic and pitiless. "If he gets his hands on Harry, we can all kiss our freedom goodbye."

A slender, lofty girl shifted next to Cace, dark brunette hair spilled over his shoulders as she leaned forward. She was the submissive of the pack, turned by Cace when the older woman had been younger and less experienced at controlling her wolf side. "Our pack already has a submissive; we can't afford to have another one. He will only be in the way." She said petulantly. Cace rested her hand on the girl's wrist.

"Be quiet, Cyn." She hushed under her breath. "Fenrir knows what he is doing. We can't let Wolfe get to the pup, or all hell breaks loose and we are subjected to a pitiful, tortured life." The older woman made a face when Cyn pulled her wrist away and pouted.

"I'm the submissive," she exclaimed and flicked her thick fringe out of her dark eyes, "I don't want another submissive in this pack." Fenrir growled at the girl and she dropped her eyes to the tabletop, her shoulders were hunched in deference.

"Don't be selfish, Cyn," said Fenrir and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, the silver-blond tresses ruffled slightly, sometimes the girl's self-centered attitude threatened to undo his self control, "Harry is in the pack now, he will be treated as such and I will not listen to you snivel and whine about it. The circumstances are austere and we are treading on thin ice here, so shut up and be a good submissive and let the adults handle it." Cyn jerked back into her seat as if she had been physically hit. Her lips trembled and she muttered out an apology.

"What are we going to do with him? Claim him? He doesn't smell like any of us, he smells of blood and depression and Wolfe." Elvy had his chin resting on his knuckles and his lips twisted with disgust. He posed a tricky question. Normally Fenrir would claim his pack members, either by pissing on them when he was in his wolf form or by giving them a nip to their necks, a physical mark that would be noticed by any adversary packs. Wolf-Cove was secluded and out of the way, in the few years Fenrir and his small pack had lived here they had never run into any other werewolves. Wolfe's arrival was somewhat disconcerting and Fenrir felt the need to reclaim all of his pack, just to be safe.

"I'll deal with it," he promised the round man with a grin, he was sure Harry would fight him with whatever option he decided on. But that was the fun part. He rarely dominated over Cyn; she was well-behaved in spite of her self-seeking ways. As far as a submissive went she was relatively standard. Tall and waif like with average features. Fenrir found Harry much more interesting. He was very unusual with his emerald eyes and messy black hair, not to mention his tiny physique. Fenrir could sense the fight in the boy and knew he would have to work hard to make Harry submit to him.

"So, let me get this straight," Elvy said quietly, narrowing his eyes as he thought over the conversation. "In short, we are in possession of Wolfe's desired sub and hold the power to either save the werewolf community or destroy it? Harry is a submissive, despite seeming otherwise in attitude and he is going to be in our pack, even though none of us sired him and we already have a submissive?" Cyn sniffed at the last bit and lifted her chin. Fenrir scowled at her.

"Correct," he said in reply, "if any one has a problem with that they will be dealing directly with me. Understood?" A chorus of 'yes' rang out and Fenrir nodded his satisfaction. Making to get to his feet he froze, lifting his head he sniffed at the air. It smelt of roiling emotions and immediately he was on guard. Harry had left his room.

"It's Harry," Moior said and stood to his feet, the other pack members did the same and sniffed the air. The scent was getting fainter. "He's running –" Moior didn't need to finish the sentence for Fenrir and Cace had both took off up the stairs. The white haired man shared a look with Elvy before he too followed the Alpha, the Omega was on his heels at once.

"Hey! What about _me_?" Cyn shouted and stomped her bare foot against the floor, she got no answer and sulkily followed the procession of werewolves. "Show you to ignore me…" she mumbled sulkily. She was use to being the center of attention and the new pup was stealing her limelight.

* * *

><p>Cold, wet specks of rain lashed at the running werewolves, dampening their hair and skin with bitter drizzle. The night sky was blanketed with a shield of fleecy clouds, blocking out the moonlight and stars. Fenrir hurried toward the scent of his new submissive. It was difficult to follow a scent when rain threatened to wash it away however he managed to trace it as far as the large lake. The lake was at the center of his large estate and stretched expansively, surrounded by green grass that was long and knee-high. The scent was lost quickly and Fenrir bared his teeth in frustration.<p>

"It's gone," Elvy stated breathlessly, tugging at his short blond hair. "It can't have just vanished." He exclaimed out loud to no one in particular. Cace was looking around with gaping lips as she took in large amounts of air.

Moior was sniffing at the grass, running his palm against the yielding plant. "He was here a few minutes ago." Fenrir nodded, the pups scent was still around, present in the swaying grass. To have disappeared so suddenly the boy would have he to smother his smell, either with another scent or…by…jumping…in –

"The lake!" yelled Cace, her eyes wide as she watched something a distance away, "he's in the lake, Fenrir!" Not wasting anytime the large werewolf scouted the rippling, dark water. He spotted Harry out in the middle, his black hair windswept and his skin pale and shining in contrast to the black water. A breath of a second later and the dark head of hair fell from sight, under the rippling surface.

"He's gone under…" Cyn stated unnecessarily. Fenrir ripped off his shirt and spared not a glance at his pack before diving head first into the ice-cold water. His Alpha instincts to protect his pack raging within him. His wolf was in a tizzy over the new sub being in danger.

His lungs pulsed with the need to gasp when the water hit his skin, flushing over his body in cold waves of water. It felt like pinpricks of ice were embedded in his bones. He broke the surface and took a mouthful of much needed air. He wasn't a swimming champion but he was reasonable and with steady strokes he swam for the center of the lake ignoring the brushes of weeds and fish against his legs.

It took no genius to figure out that Harry had purposely swam into the middle of the lake, and the thought of the boy attempting to drown himself sent fierce waves of defense to dance and flutter in Fenrir's chest. He would rescue the boy and then teach him a lesson about not copping out. Life was hard. Living it was harder. But taking the easy way out was pathetic.

"You just wait, pup." He promised quietly and continued to swim for the center. The pack watched on from the bank.

* * *

><p>I know, a LOT of original characters. Fear not, this story will be centered around FenrirHarry. With lots of slash-y goodness to come!

;)


	5. Chapter 5

Any mistakes are my own, I rushed this chappy. I seriously need a Beta.

Enjoy…

* * *

><p><strong>-CHAPTER FIVE: By My Hand-<strong>

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><p>The water was everywhere. Surrounding his body and compressing in on him ruthlessly. It tickled through his hair and made dark strands dance into his face. Harry's lungs ached, they felt heavy and full and he gasped again, taking in more water and causing his lungs to smolder. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He was trapped and beleaguered in the water, floating idly and watching blearily through the murky gloom. His vision was fading and he feared he would be swallowed by blackness.<p>

It's what he wanted. What he had planned for when he had waded out into the water. Now he wasn't so sure. His brain screamed at his body to swim and move but his limbs were sleepy and didn't react even when he tried to make the slightest movement.

A muffled splash burbled in his ears and he twisted his head, he wanted to try and take another breath but knew if he did he would just hurt his lungs further. Closing his heavy eyes Harry allowed the pull of the water to drag him downwards, into the deep, dim, depths of the lake. Weeds entwined around his body, tickling his skin lightly then something much more forceful clamped around his forearm and Harry was tugged roughly against a solid body, a firm, warm, _safe_ body.

If he had had the energy and lucid thought Harry would have fought off the Alpha, as it were he was dancing on the brink of unconsciousness and went lax in the sturdy embrace. The feeling of being bodily dragged through the cold, numbing water was almost pleasant and Harry forgot about his straining lungs and spinning head long enough to slip into the respite of darkness.

Instinctively he clung to Fenrir with colorless, numb fingers and buried his face into the broad chest.

* * *

><p>Fenrir was furious when he made it to the grassy bank, Harry was held under one arm easily and he dragged himself from the water, dripping messily onto the grass. His hair looked dark from the water and was flattened against his cheeks and forehead. Cace was the first by his side and her warm hands touched his face tenderly before reaching out for the pup. Fenrir placed the slack, pale boy down, his body was swallowed by the towering grass.<p>

"He isn't breathing," Cace said, they all knew that much, their over-sensitive hearing could easily hear a heartbeat and Harry didn't have one. "Fenrir, what do we do?"

Crouching down next to the immobile Harry the large man placed his hand over the small chest, with a quick movement he pressed down hard and released the pressure, a few more tries had Harry coughing and retching. Ignoring the boy's hands that pushed him away Fenrir rolled Harry onto his side and waited for him to finish coughing up water. When the choking subsided Fenrir reached out and gripped the boy's smooth chin between his fingers.

Ocher eyes stared directly into bright green, "do you have any idea how much trouble you are in right now, pup?" he growled low and bumped his nose against Harry's – a silent gesture of relief to have the sub safe. Harry's wet skin dripped trails of water and he frowned up at Fenrir. Long lashes were clumped from the water and they hid emerald eyes when Harry looked down in shame.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly even Fenrir had trouble hearing him. He sneered and shook Harry by his shoulders.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded and his silver hair fell into his face, hitting Harry lightly on the nose. Neither of them blinked or moved. Silence descended and a breeze picked up, flushing cold, winter air against their wet skin. Harry shivered.

"Fenrir, you can lecture him later, he needs rest and to be checked out fully." Cace chattered her teeth, the cold was affecting them all and Fenrir bobbed his head in agreement. He stood up and away from Harry with out so much as a glance and strode towards the large manor. Elvy was the first to follow and Cyn stalked after him.

"Come on, puppy," said Cace and she bent down helping a shaky, drenched Harry to his feet, "I deal with all the medical emergencies around here, so I'll check you over, alright?" Harry nodded and sniffled back his tears. Cace frowned and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. "Now don't you start crying, puppy, or you'll have old Cace here a weeping mess." She hushed softly and tapped a finger to Harry's nose playfully.

Moior chuckled and nudged Harry lightly in the shoulder, "and trust me, she is an ugly crier, not something you ever want to experience." He joked gently and smiled when Harry's lips twitched. Together the three of them made for the warmth of the manor, stumbling in the dark and supporting a fragile Harry.

* * *

><p>It was the sound of birds that roused Harry from his dream. A dream that was centered on a talking twig that was poking him in the stomach, it hurt and he moaned, shifting in his bed. "Careful Harry, I'm trying to bandage your tummy. Stay still for me." Harry opened his eyes and rubbed them with his knuckles. Cace sat on the edge of the mattress and was cleaning his knife wound.<p>

"So _you__'__re_ the talking twig," he mumbled sleepily and Cace sent him a confused, laughing stare. The pungent smell of alcohol was strong to Harry and he craned his neck to see what the woman was doing. Large but gentle hands rubbed a cloth bathed in pure alcohol across his abdomen, disinfecting the injury. "I thought it was okay?" Harry questioned and let his head flop back into the pillow.

Cace nodded, her choppy, sandy hair bouncing with the movement, "it is, I'm just making sure none of the lake water got any infections in it. Better safe then sorry." She explained. Harry yawned and looked out the window, it was early and the sun was high in the sky, far away and shining cold rays of sunshine down on the earth. His tummy twisted into knots at the casual mention of his failed attempt at suicide. His cheeks heated with a blush and he closed his eyes.

"Don't believe we think any different of you, Harry. What you did was reckless and foolish but the reasons behind it are understandable. We have all had hard roads, being a werewolf by birth or by bite isn't easy, we are your family now, you must learn to trust us."

Harry opened his eyes and was startled to find that Cace had leant forward and was staring intently at his face, watching him with such an open expression that Harry flashed her a tiny smile, "thanks, Cace, that – it means a lot to hear that." And it did. While Harry was still on edge around the werewolves, last night had opened his eyes to how much the pack cared for one another. After he had been fished from the lake by Fenrir, Cace and Moior had taken him to the small wing of the manor that housed a hospital-like room. He had been dried off and given a cup of hot chocolate before Cace dealt with his bitten leg, stab wound and the residing water that was in his tummy. He had felt safe with the older werewolve and Moior had kept his mind busy with jokes and random conversations.

Fenrir hadn't come by to see him; in fact Harry hadn't seen the Alpha for the rest of the night. Cace assured him that Fenrir was probably just drying off but Harry knew differently. It felt as if Fenrir didn't want Harry around, that he found him a burden.

"Is Fenrir angry with me?" he asked after a brief silence, Cace looked up from where she was dabbing the cloth to the mouth of a bottle, her eyes flashed with something unreadable and she looked down at her hands, "Cace…?" Harry hedged. She fiddled with the cloth before huffing and placing everything down onto the ground.

"Fenrir is livid, Harry," at Harry's pale look she hastened to add, "but not just with you, he is the Alpha, the leader and we are his responsibility –"

"I'm no ones responsibility, I can look after myself." Retorted Harry hotly.

Cace licked her lips, "like you did last night?" she said and Harry flushed, looking away from her gaze. "Whether you like it or not, you are now apart of his pack and he is to look out for you. Last night he failed at doing that. Fenrir is a man who doesn't take kindly to failure and as such he is angry at himself. Imagine having to protect, feed and comfort a pack of your own, and then imagine losing a member."

Harry furrowed his brows. He didn't want to be under Fenrir's protection or in the pack. It would never be the same as his own family. His lips pulled into a frown and he picked at the sheet.

"I don't know what it's like to lead a pack, and really, I don't care. I'm not his responsibility and I don't want to be. My life is mine and I can do what I want with it. I lost my family and I'm a werewolf, it isn't fair." Harry's eyes were wet with tears and he turned his head away. Warm and surprisingly gentle hands cupped his cheeks and moved his head back around to stare into azure eyes.

"No, you're right. It isn't fair." Conceded Cace and ran her thumb along Harry's pronounced cheekbone, "but not giving Fenrir and the pack the chance to give you a second opportunity at a family is also not fair. Not all of us were born a werewolf; Moior and I were both turned. I was just twenty three when it happened to me." Harry opened his lips to speak, but a finger across them stopped his words from escaping his throat.

"My mother and I lived alone, my father left when I was still an infant. She was my world, she doted on me and I loved her more then anything. After I was turned the hunters got wind and I knew I had to make a decision, if I stayed with my mother she would be in redundant danger."

"What did you do?" questioned Harry, watching Cace's eyes become sad.

"I left. I packed my bags one night and ran away. I left her a note, telling her I loved her and that I was sorry. She looked for me for five years, posters and advertisements, after a while she just gave up hope. Fenrir took me in; I met him two years after I had been turned. I survived my first full-moon just barely and the subsequent full-moons after but I was weak. He helped me embrace my wolf and see it as a gift. I've been with him ever since." She stroked Harry's cheek motherly and a heartbreaking smile played on her lips.

"How old are you now?" Harry wondered out loud and Cace gave a bay of laughter. She slapped his jaw playfully and ruffled his hair.

"Shouldn't ask a woman that, Harry – it's bad manners. But I'm forty nine." She answered with a grin. "No teasing me about being the oldie of the pack, I get enough of that from Elvy." She quipped. Harry smiled back at her.

"You don't look almost fifty, I wouldn't have guessed." He replied and was rewarded with a tickle to his neck; he yelped and shuffled away, careful not to aggravate his abdomen. Cace picked up her cloth and bottle of alcohol. She beamed and her white, straight teeth were shown.

"Ready for that knee of yours?" she inquired and Harry begrudgingly nodded. Feeling oddly content with the woman, Harry rested back and let Cace go about her business.

* * *

><p>It was lunch time before Harry was given the all clear to venture out of his room. He had been cooped up all morning and was bored and restless. As soon as Cace said he could leave he was out the door and down the hallway. He wasn't sure where he was going, just that he needed some space to think and some fresh air.<p>

The long blades of grass tickled his palms, dancing over his skin lightly. The breeze was chilly and bitter against his skin but the afternoon sun warmed him enough to keep him comfortable. Harry sat near the lake, idly watching the surface ripple from the wind. The water looked silver. It was difficult to stare out at the large expanse of lake, more so because Harry felt the need to finish what he had started. Whenever he was out of sight of the pack he could feel his emotions come crashing back, the pack kept his mind off it, but they couldn't make Harry's grief better.

Slow approaching footsteps dampened the sound of lapping water, Harry didn't bother to turn around to see who was behind him. He could sense the overwhelming presence of power, he knew who it was.

"You were a foolish pup last night, I was not impressed." Fenrir said and Harry hunched his shoulders at the cold, void tone the man used on him. He hated when people purposely set out to make him feel like shit.

"Not impressed?" Harry asked with a dry laugh, he picked at the blades of grass, breaking them into small pieces, "not impressed by what exactly? The fact that I failed my suicide attempt or the fact I didn't bother to do it sooner?" Harry bit out harshly and threw his chin angrily. Fenrir was silent for a moment, completely still behind Harry.

"Neither. I was not impressed that you could be so cowardly. I would have thought the son of a famous werewolf hunter would have some courage not to off himself."

Harry took a deep breath, "my father wasn't a werewolf hunter." He stated matter-of-factly, denying the truth and pushing aside the evidence. He didn't want to think his father had been some werewolf-hunter. He knew his dad. At least he thought he had. Fenrir chuckled and the sound sent shivers to dance up Harry's spine, whether because the man sounded closer or because of the ill humor in the laugh, Harry wasn't sure.

"He was. I assure you. He hunted many werewolves, myself included. I suppose he went a bit soft after marrying his wife and having a son, he hadn't hunted for years. Didn't mean the werewolves forgot him. He thought us an abomination, a meager animal," Fenrir laughed, "and what happened? His own son gets turned into the very thing he hunted. That's irony for you." Harry clenched his jaw and glared out at the water. He refused to let Fenrir rile him up.

"He hunted deer, sometimes, not wolves." Insisted Harry stubbornly. Fenrir shifted closer and Harry could feel the heat of the man against his back. Fenrir had a scent that was wild and untamed, Harry's werewolf side could sense it easily, the commanding scent made Harry's skin prickle with some confusing emotion.

"No not wolves – werewolves, the very thing you are. Tell me something Harry, would you like to be in danger all your life, to have every hunter wanting your blood, wanting you dead? Your father was one of the many hunters out there. He was the best, there's not doubt about that. However, there are thousands more like him. Hunter's who are willing to kill pups. Do you know how hunters kill a werewolf, Harry?

"Don't," Harry warned and crossed his arms over his chest, an unconscious gesture to protect himself, "I don't want to know."

"They cut their throats, drain their blood then mutilate the corpse. Or they put a silver bullet straight through the skull, right between the eyes. Just like the hunters would have done to you had I not interrupted."

Harry growled and spun around, getting to his feet neatly as he did so. Fenrir stood straight-backed, looking down at him with ocher eyes. Harry snarled and his eyes flashed amber. "I said don't. I don't want to know the hardship you all face. I'm not one of you, I _shouldn__'__t_ be one of you. I don't want to spend the rest of my life running away from hunters. Why do you think I tried to kill myself? I hate this. I hate me."

Fenrir cocked his head to one side, his angular features devoid of any emotion. Harry was breathing heavily and hating that he had to crane his neck to see eye to eye with the werewolf. "You hate the werewolf," said Fenrir and Harry glared, the man ignored him, "and yet, you merge with your wolf more than you might think. Just now your eyes flashed amber and your movements are graceful, wolf-like."

"I don't care." Harry hissed and sneered up at the tall man. Fenrir raised one eyebrow and then pursed his lips.

"I can't make you care." He said stoically, "I don't want to. I have better things to do then deal with hormonal adolescent boys. However, whether you like it or not you are a werewolf now." Fenrir sent an appraising look down Harry's body, Harry's wolf side keened at the attention, outwardly he glowered. "My pack and I offer you safety and a place to live, if you don't wish for it, leave." Fenrir turned on his heel and swept away from Harry suddenly, his muscular body surprisingly elegant as he did so.

Harry huffed in annoyance, put out by being dismissed so quickly, "fine," he said loudly, "I will leave. You can't keep me here." He thought he saw the man falter in his path, thought Fenrir's head turned just a bit. A second later however, Fenrir was gone and Harry decided he must have imagined it.

Sighing the boy flopped back down on to the grass, seething with _something_ – he wasn't sure what. Was it anger? Or was he upset that Fenrir hadn't fought to make him see reason. It almost felt like the man could care less about what happened to Harry, and yet Fenrir had helped him, albeit reluctantly. Surely there had to be a reason for that?

* * *

><p>Harry was confused, and not about the whole turning-werewolf-new-family-vegetarian-wolf thing. He was lost. And quite thoroughly so at that. He had made a run for it after Fenrir had left him alone, he knew the pack would have been getting ready for their lunch and decided to make a dash while he had the chance. The only minor problem was, was that Harry had no clue how far Wolf-Cove stretched for and he had been lost in the forest surrounding Fenrir's home for the past half hour.<p>

He knew the pack wouldn't be alerted to his escape just yet, they would still be fussing over what to have for lunch; steak or meatballs. Harry was a good few miles away – or at least he thought so, it was difficult to tell when surrounded by acres of trees.

Stumbling over a protruding tree root Harry huffed out a breath of air, holding his tummy he groaned. His wound was giving him grief, it probably wasn't his best idea to run away when his injuries were still very much raw. His bite was flushing with pain with each step he took. Harry berated himself for running, a small part of him felt bad for abandoning the pack when they had tried to make him feel welcomed. At least Cace and Moior had tried. Fenrir was stoic and Harry got the distinct impression he was not inclined toward liking him.

Rubbing his sore stomach Harry continued on, hoping he wasn't going in circles. His wolf side couldn't smell the scent of Fenrir's pack anymore, so he concluded he must be a fair ways away. It was heading toward mid-afternoon and the winter sun was faint but held some warmth, the trees blocked out most of the light, however, small slithers of sun squeezed between the canopies. Scratching at the back of his neck and ruffling his hair Harry stopped, breathing deeply.

"Who'd have thought running away with a stab wound would be so hard." He said softly and sardonically to himself.

"I'd imagine it would be no fun."

Harry's insides went to ice and his face blanched of colour, he swallowed nervously and remained as still as a statue. He knew that voice. That deep, guttural, drawling voice. Taking in small, shallow breaths Harry bit his bottom lip, willing himself to man up. "Wolfe –?" he stated, but it came out as more of a question. A deep laugh from behind him caused his skin to tingle unpleasantly.

"Yes, it is me pup. I told you I would be back, didn't I?" Harry balled his hands into fists, dreading to turn around and face the man – no, Wolfe wasn't a man. He was an animal, a werewolf. And if his aura was anything to go by, he was a damn sight wilder than Fenrir. "I came looking for you at your house. Seems some hunters beat me to you. Not to worry, you're safe, that's all that matters."

"My parents were killed." Harry said quietly. He wanted to turn and face Wolfe, his entire body screamed at him to see eye to eye with the man, he hated being vulnerable. Hated having his back to the man, it made him feel exposed, and yet he couldn't bring himself to turn around.

Wolfe shifted; Harry could tell he did because the leaves on the ground crunched under his feet. "I know. Their bodies were still their when I arrived. I think the police came not long after I left. It's a shame really, your daddy really was a spectacular hunter. Very quick and fierce, he had a wicked aim on him. Pity to see him so dead."

"It's because of you." Harry whispered, he was surprised Wolfe caught his words.

"Because I turned you?" asked the werewolf and Harry heard the crunching of leaves as the man came closer. Still Harry couldn't turn around. He couldn't face the man that had single handedly ruined his safe, happy life, with just a stupid bite.

Harry nodded and tried to swallow down the lump of grief that crawl up his throat, quieting any words he might have said. His nostrils flared when Wolfe's overwhelming scent clouded around him, controlling and dangerous.

"I did what I had to do –"

"You killed them!"

"The hunters did that, pup. All I did was claim what was mine." Wolfe said calmly, but Harry could smell the irritation from the man. "I did it for a reason," he continued and Harry knew by the heat on his back that Wolfe was inches away from him now, the large shadow next to his own frightened him.

"What reason?" Harry inquired hoarsely, if only to have something to say.

"You are my sub," stated Wolfe proudly, "I sired you, and I own you. Together we will rule the werewolf community and rein all the packs under our control. You, my pup, are indispensable to my cause. Without you I will not succeed."

Harry's heart was hammering against his throat, making his stomach sick with dread. He didn't understand half of what Wolfe was saying, he didn't think he wanted to. All he knew was that it sounded bad, evil bad. "I'm not yours, you don't own me, and I won't help you." Harry said fiercely. Wolfe made an odd sound in his throat before wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders, restraining the boy easily.

Harry struggled against the hold and panicked, "you are so feisty my pup. It's beautiful. You will make a good sub for me, I will show you what domination is all about." Harry was startled by the husky tone in which Wolfe spoke to him in and twisted around in the tight hold, coming face to face – or more over, face to chest, with the werewolf.

"Let go of me."

"No."

"I'll scream."

"Please do, my pretty."

Harry gritted his teeth and glared up at Wolfe. The man's greasy hair and dirty teeth made Harry want to gag. "How'd you find me?" he asked after a moment of silence. Wolfe smirked down at him, tightening his arms around Harry slightly.

"Your scent is intoxicating, I tracked you. You smell innocent," breathed Wolfe, bending down to trace Harry's temple with his nose, Harry leaned back, but it did no good, "and sweet, like chocolate only better. It's very easy to identify your scent, pup." Wolfe chuckled against Harry's neck when the boy gnashed his teeth together and growled.

"You're going to have to do better than that, puppy. I'll teach you how to really growl."

Harry's eyes widened when a low, rumbling sound trembled through out the forest and for a moment Harry thought Wolfe was growling at him, that is until the large werewolf pulled back and locked eyes on something behind Harry.

Baring his yellow teeth Wolfe leered, he cuddled Harry's small body close, so tightly Harry's breath was squeezed out of his lungs. "Lose something, Greyback?" taunted Wolfe and Harry tried to spin around. Now he knew it was Fenrir he wondered how he could have missed the scent of the Alpha. Compared to Wolfe's Fenrir's scent was heady and strong.

Harry heard another growl, this one low and threatening, he was puzzled when Fenrir didn't reply to Wolfe's goad. Wolfe flicked his eyes away and looked back down at Harry, the man's lips twitched and he roughly spun Harry around in his hold, making sure to keep a firm grip on the boy's biceps. Harry gasped when he saw the large wolf standing a few meters off. Beautiful, silver-white fur covered a muscular, large body and dark amber eyes were watching Harry intently, the wolf was standing stock-still, its large, fluffy tail hooked and its ears flattened to its skull.

Fenrir was an amazing wolf.

"I do believe you had something of mine, Greyback, but never mind, I got him back." Said Wolfe and he shook Harry lightly to show Fenrir, Harry sneered, revealing his teeth. Compared to Wolfe's own extending canines and Fenrir's bared fangs, Harry's teeth looked pathetic. It was his wolf instincts to bare his teeth and most definitely his wolf instincts that made him snarl low in his throat. The wolf in front of them perked its ears up at Harry's puppy-like noise and Wolfe laughed, his chest rumbling against Harry's shoulders.

"Oh dear, puppy is trying to play with the adults." Harry glared up at Wolfe, no easy feat considering he had to twist his head back awkwardly. Wolfe ignored his glower and instead watched Fenrir. "I can't see you having the time to deal with newly turned puppies, Greyback; I'm doing you a favour by taking him off your hands."

The wolf flattened its belly to the ground, raising its hackles in warning. Fenrir obviously understood every word Wolfe was saying.

"I'm surprised you hadn't figured out I was roaming around sooner. Too engrossed in keeping my destined mate away from me I suppose. I really must thank you for that, having to hunt him down only made my desire for him grow, you know what they say; distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the cock grow longer." Harry blanched when Wolfe thrust his hips against his body humping him like some animal. It seemed he wasn't the only one not enjoying the unwanted attention for Fenrir gave a loud howl and charged at the pair of them.

Harry screamed and was pulled out of the way by Wolfe, who literally threw Harry aside. Watching with interest and disgust Harry saw Wolfe grin widely before morphing quickly and cleanly into a huge, black wolf. He charged at Fenrir, teeth bared and claws digging into the dirt with each bound. Harry felt calmer in knowing Fenrir was a good size bigger than Wolfe. However the fight was vicious, full of teeth and claws and blood. It was messy and frightening.

Harry made to run toward the fight, he wasn't sure why, something inside of him wanted to join, some part of him wanted to protect Fenrir, but someone grabbed his wrist, pulling him backward. "Don't Harry, just come with us."

Harry was relieved to see Moior and Elvy, both in their human forms. Moior tugged gently at his wrist, his eyes begging Harry to not resist. "Come, Harry. Fenrir's a difficult Alpha at times, but Wolfe is brutal." Harry really needed no lecture, he was just thankful Wolfe was off him and not humping against his backside.

"Fenrir –?" Harry asked as he was dragged through the trees by Moior. Elvy gave a bay of hushed laughter.

"Fenrir's a big boy, he can take care of himself." The stumpy man said, turning back at the sound of a pained howl. Harry knew it wasn't Fenrir and was pleased, although he wasn't wholly sure why.

"How long can he keep Wolfe away?" He asked uncertainly.

Elvy shrugged, his belly wobbling as he walked hurriedly, "long enough to get you someplace safe."

* * *

><p>"You must eat, Harry. You barely touched your breakfast, surely you're hungry?" Cace said to a silent Harry. She sat on the end of his bed, staring at the plate that was untouched. Harry shook his head and cuddled his pillow closer to his chest. Cace sighed, Harry was a difficult boy. She pushed the plate an inch closer to Harry in hope that he would give in and eat something.<p>

"I'm not hungry," Harry stated for the fifth time that afternoon, nudging back the plate defiantly. Cace gave him a saddened look and then got to her feet, the bed springs creaked. She had been trying for the past hour to get the pup to eat some of his meatballs, just one, she had coaxed, but Harry refused to touch them.

Standing by the bedside the older werewolf reached out and brushed back Harry's messy hair, Harry ducked his head, but otherwise allowed the contact. "I don't know what we're going to do with you, pup." She said in a hushed voice, Harry peeked up at her from under his fringe and she smiled kindly down at the big, green eyes. "I promise you will come to fit in, Harry. It might take a little while but the pack and Fenrir are all willing to make this work. You've had a difficult few days, it's understandable that you're upset. I like having you around –"

Cace stopped talking when the bedroom door opened gradually and Fenrir walked in silently and sent her a look that had her smiling her goodbye to Harry and leaving the room. Harry scowled at his plate and fitfully ignored the Alpha's company, squishing his pillow to his body for comfort. He hated being alone with Fenrir.

"Are you incapable of not doing inane things?" Fenrir said suddenly, Harry winced at the loud, forceful tone and turned his head away, looking out of the window. His stomach gave a twang of pain, Harry put it down to being hungry, but he vowed not to eat, it would only make his wolf stronger. The Alpha came closer, "answer me, pup!" he demanded and it took all of Harry's strength not to cower and plead for forgiveness.

Harry didn't respond and Fenrir stood in the middle of the room, his deep breaths lifting his chest strongly. "You went out of bounds. How am I supposed to protect you when you leave the grounds?"

"I don't need you to protect me!" Harry shouted in anger, sick of everyone having a go at him. His eyes sparked amber and he felt a stab of soreness in his gut.

Fenrir scoffed, "no? Because you're really doing an outstanding job of protecting yourself, now aren't you?" he said sarcastically. Harry gritted his teeth in anger and made a noncommittal sound in his throat. "When will you learn that you're not the first person to experience loss and pain?" questioned Fenrir, watching Harry intently, the boy didn't meet his eyes. "You need to stop sulking and start taking responsibility for your self."

"I tried and you stopped me."

Fenrir reared upwards, towering over Harry, "I stopped you from taking your life –"

"Well it was mine to take. It's all I have left!" Harry replied hotly, he blinked and refused to let the hot tears escape his eyes. Not in front of the Alpha. Fenrir growled low and jerked his hair out of his face in annoyance then he leant down, nose to nose with Harry.

"You're weak, Harry," he hushed and bumped the boy's nose in warning, cutting off any protest from Harry.

"You're weak and stubborn and as far as pack members go, you're useless, you put my pack in danger today. You don't realize how much Cace cares for you. She is a nurturing woman by heart, but she has taken a real liking to you, Harry. She was frantic when she found you gone. You never thought of how the pack would feel; you just left, because _you_ were hurting, because _you_ couldn't handle the change. Grow up little boy. Life is hard. Dying is easy." Harry's bottom lip trembled and he knew Fenrir caught the movement, the man's teeth bared and he snapped them at Harry's throat.

"Tears are pointless, pup. You can cry all the tears you like, but they are not going to make you feel any better," Harry sniffled pathetically and clung to his pillow.

Fenrir nudged his nose against the sensitive skin of Harry's neck, "I know you are stronger than this, Harry. I can sense the fight you have. You would make a wonderful werewolf, if only you channeled these wanton, adolescent emotions of yours. Use them for something constructive; don't just give up because you were kicked down. Fight back, pup."

Harry gasped quietly when Fenrir's sharp teeth nipped at his neck, tugging the smooth skin and then lapping at the red mark left. "Why do you care so much?" he asked Fenrir and hiccoughed wetly.

"You need to eat." Replied Fenrir and pulled away, staring at Harry. Harry furrowed his brows and shook his head.

"I can't. I'm not hungry."

"You can and you will. I will not have you disobeying an order. You will finish your lunch or you will stay in this room until you do." Harry made a face at the werewolf, silently thinking the man was barmy, surely he wouldn't keep Harry locked in the room until he ate something.

"I'm a vegetarian." It wasn't the strongest argument but it was all Harry had.

He didn't crave meat anymore, not after seeing his parents killed because of what he was. His wolf side was his enemy and he would do anything to kill it off – he wasn't even sure if that was possible, but he didn't care. He wanted to be normal. He _hated_ his wolf.

Harry groaned severely when the feeling of being ripped in two racked through his body, he cried out something unintelligible and then felt his entire body seize up and writhe. It was out of his control. He couldn't stop the pain or movement.

It was like a knife was being dragged up through his organs, puncturing each one painfully and leaving bloody scars on his insides. "You foolish child," Harry shook his head, fighting back the wash of tears, "you can't do that. Pushing your wolf away will only hurt you, your wolf is a part of you now," Harry moaned and slapped at the figure above him. He knew it was Fenrir, however, he couldn't give a fuck about hitting him. The pain was just too much.

"I hate it!" Harry yelled, loud enough for his throat to burn and his ears to ring. Fenrir's large, warm hands were on his shoulders, holding him still. Harry couldn't focus on the man's face, his vision was blurry from pain.

"This is the result of neglecting your wolf. It feels threatened."

"I fucking feel threatened, I'm a monster!" Fenrir growled at Harry and shook him roughly. Harry groaned and thrashed his legs, trying to loosen the hold.

"You're killing your wolf by not eating."

Harry laughed, it was empty and cold even to his own ears, "good," he exclaimed, "I want it dead."

The bedroom door creaked as it opened and Harry attempted to see who had entered, his head hurt and his brain was doing wishy-washy circles on him. "Fenrir, we heard him shout. Is he okay?" it was Cace, Harry shook his head back and forth, she smelt like food, she'd been cooking so it was logical, but gods the smell made Harry's stomach roil unpleasantly.

"He's rejecting his wolf. It was only a matter of time until the wolf acted up." Fenrir replied clearly and calmly.

"He needs to eat, the wolf needs food." Cace said seriously and Harry heard Fenrir mumbled something incomprehensible. His stomach lurched painfully and Harry choked on a cry, retching and gasping for air. He was going to be sick! "Fenrir, roll him over, he's sickly."

"I know, Cace."

Strong, attentive hands turned Harry onto his side and as if his tummy sensed the go-ahead Harry's body trembled and he vomited, heaving up what little breakfast he had ate and tasting the burn of bile on his tongue.

The last coherent words Harry could make out were Cace whispering fervently to Fenrir.

"His human and wolf are fighting each other for dominance. Fenrir, we need to help him."


	6. Chapter 6

**-CHAPTER SIX: Wolf vs. Human-**

* * *

><p>The pup was foolish, as foolish as they come. Fenrir stood against the heavy wooden door of the bedroom watching over the boy on the bed. Harry was sweating and mumbling under his breath, he wasn't coherent and hadn't been for quite some time now. The pack had been taking turns in keeping watch over their wayward sub. Harry was ill – his wolf was fighting with his human side. Such an occurrence happened very little within the werewolf community, and if it did happen it was usually newly turned werewolves that it happened to.<p>

A knock at the bedroom door trembled the wood against Fenrir's back and he moved aside, allowing Cace to enter the room. Her short hair was in disarray and she was frowning.

"Any improvement?" she asked promptly, going to Harry's bedside she laid her hand across his forehead, wincing at the fever. "He's burning up." She stated unnecessarily.

"Has been for the past twenty minutes, not much we can do about it," replied Fenrir quietly, his ocher eyes watching the small form on the bed twist with discomfort. "We'll have to wait it out, see what health the pup is in come morning." He decided. There was little any of them could do to make Harry comfortable. It was an internal struggle the pup had to face on his own.

Cace removed her hand, fiddling with Harry's unruly hair. "You know what happens to most werewolves who go through this, Fenrir. Can we really take the chance? Surely we can do something." The disquiet in her voice was thick.

"You know as well as I do that there is nothing we can do, Cace. We'll keep watch over him through the night." Fenrir said sternly. As leveled headed as Cace was she had a tendency to overprotect the people she cared for.

Cace ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes.

"He will die –" she began solemnly.

Fenrir shook his head at the werewolf, "You don't know that."

"Fenrir," she sighed "he came here smelling of depression. He attempted suicide and ran away; now his wolf and human sides are fighting. What more can the child handle? One in five werewolves who have this problem survive. One in five, Fenrir. That's a slim chance."

Fenrir made to answer when Elvy peeked into the room, clearly he'd been listening from outside, "it might be best if the boy were to succumb to death," he opined and got two dirty looks in return, "all I'm saying is that Wolfe needs Harry to succeed, without him, he won't. Thus if Harry goes to the clouds Wolfe doesn't take up leadership and we are one problem less."

"Harry isn't a problem, Elvy. He is our pack member. We are responsible for him now." Cace said with a puckered brow. Her azure eyes narrowed at Elvy. Elvy rolled his eyes and tossed his pale hair off his forehead.

"He's a useless pack member;" he commented deprecatingly, "all he does is try to flee from us. Not a wholesome, positive addition to this pack whatsoever." Fenrir crossed his arms across his chest, frowning at the squat man.

Cace stood up tall, towering over Elvy easily. "How dare you. Harry is struggling with the transition, every newly turned wolf does, just because he is young and vulnerable does not give you the right to kick him while he's down. The pup is frightened and unsure, we are his pack, and he needs us. I can't believe you have the audacity to say something so crass when Harry could very well die through the night."

Elvy sighed deeply in exasperation and flicked his gaze to Fenrir, completely ignoring the flushed and angered Cace. "If he does survive I'm finishing him off myself for being such a bloody drama queen." He said monotonously. Cace floundered for words and shook her head forcefully, clearly outraged with the short werewolf.

"Why you have some nerve –"

"Enough!" Fenrir said loudly, immediately all eyes were on him, "Cace, you can take the next watch." The woman nodded glumly, "and Elvy, I will not have you touching the pup, understood?" At Fenrir's fierce look the werewolf nodded his head.

"Yes, Alpha." He replied duly. Fenrir nodded his contentment and left the room, leaving his two pack mates to glare venom at one another.

"He'll die. I hope he does, really. Sounds awful but we'd be better off without him, and if he's not accepting of his wolf then his life will be miserable."

"You're a heartless man, Elvy."

"He'll ruin this pack if he stays and put us all in needless danger. I'm being conscientious."

"Oh go annoy someone else. I'm on watch and I don't want you here."

"PMS-ing much?"

* * *

><p>Harry bones ached. They felt weighed down by invisible weights and try as he might he couldn't lift them. His insides were wishy-washy like water and each breath he took made him want to sick up. The young werewolf whimpered and tossed his head to the side. It hurt. Everything hurt. Especially his gums, why was that?<p>

Opening his heavy eyes the boy looked around the room. It was dark and yet he could see every detail the shadows covered. His eyesight was normally pretty bad. "What's happening to me?" his voice was raucous, it pained him to talk and drained his energy.

He should have expected the reply that followed his question. He had known the man was there; his scent gave him away even before Harry had opened his eyes.

"Your wolf is becoming more prominent." Fenrir replied. His deep, rumbling voice wrapped around Harry and made him feel safe – secure despite his aching body. "You need to allow it access, don't fight it, Harry. It needs to establish its position." Harry didn't understand what the man was telling him. His ears picked up on the words, his hearing was immaculate, he could perceive reverberation of the animals outside in the forest surrounding the manor as they went about collecting food and such for the long winter coming. It was his pain that got in the way of his rational thought.

"I don't understand." Harry could feel the words scrape at his throat and whimpered piteously; it was as if each word had scraped away the lining of his esophagus. The heady scent of his Alpha got stronger as the man approached Harry's bed.

"Allow your wolf to come to the forefront. Right now your human side is suppressing the wolf."

"I don't want the wolf in me, Fenrir. I just want to be normal!" Harry cried, subsequently wincing at how loud his voice was. He shut his eyes when a wave of pain washed down his body, tightening his muscles and causing his lithe frame to writhe uncontrollably. Large, callous fingers wrapped around his chin.

"Open your eyes, pup," Fenrir growled. Harry snapped his eyes open, wishing the pain would cease. "Stop fighting it. Let the wolf take control, let it be free," he whispered fervently into Harry's ear. The man's breath was hot and soothing against Harry's skin and he sighed. "If you don't, your wolf and human will destroy one another."

Harry stared up into those ocher eyes, watching Fenrir's silver-blond hair hang close to his face. "Meaning…?" asked the boy. Although he knew the answer to his question, he still lay quiet and waited for the large man to reply.

Fenrir's lips were a thin, serious line of worry. "Meaning you will end up dead, Harry. Given your recent escapades I'd be right in saying you wouldn't much care if you died," the truth hurt Harry and he attempted to turn his head away, Fenrir would not have such disobedience and forced Harry to look at him. "Give your wolf a chance," Harry thought it sounded like the man was pleading – _almost_.

"I don't know how." Was the small reply from Harry. Fenrir relaxed his grip on the boy's smooth chin and instead placed his hands over the slim chest. Harry's green eyes followed his every movement carefully.

"Relax," the older werewolf ordered gruffly, "take a deep breath and let it out slowly," Harry did as he was told and breathed through the shiver of pain that danced in his bones. Fenrir nodded, "good, now close those pretty eyes and focus on your wolf side. Let it take charge. Don't fight, just give in." Harry warily closed his eyes, sending Fenrir a quick glance before doing so.

"How do I focus on my wolf side?" he questioned. The sound of Fenrir shifting was even louder in his ears now that his sight had been taken.

"Your wolf is already present; I can sense it just under the surface. Tell it to come forward."

The instructions were simple enough, and Harry knew it was his wolf side that could hear immensely well. The doing part however, proved to be more difficult and after a few minutes past tediously Harry snapped his eyes open in frustration. Concentrating on his wolf was not bringing it out. Was he so useless at everything that he couldn't even control his body?

"It's not working, Fenrir!" he snapped. Fenrir chuckled, making Harry look to him in askance. The man's tall figure was clear against the dark room, Harry saw him so easily he thought the man must have turned on a light.

"It already has, my pup." Fenrir replied silkily.

* * *

><p>The pup's eyes were beautiful, even more so now that they swirled with bright amber. Harry had merged with his wolf effortlessly – confirming Fenrir's belief that the boy was a powerful little wolf. It had happened quickly. Fenrir had seen the change; Harry's forehead had relaxed and the small line between his eyebrows had smoothed out. It was only when Harry had opened his eyes that Fenrir was certain the wolf was present.<p>

"What do you mean?" Fenrir looked down at the small form on the bed. Harry's hair was unruly from tossing and turning most of the night, fighting off his wolf. Now that he had embraced the animal within his skin glowed and his discomfort was forgotten.

"Your wolf is out, Harry. Well done, you merged quickly. I was surprised." In truth Fenrir wasn't all that surprised; all his pack had sensed the boy's power. It was in the thrilling, youthful scent the sub had. It was rare for a submissive wolf to smell of such supremacy. Fenrir had no doubt why Wolfe had been wanton for the boy. Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion and he scrubbed at his face.

"I've merged with my wolf?" he asked uncertainly. Fenrir bobbed his head. "I don't feel like I have."

"Do you feel the pain you have been feeling all night? Is your eyesight better tenfold? Can you smell and hear better also?" Harry was silence for a few seconds.

"No, yes, yes," Fenrir was surprised to see the barely there lopsided smile the boy gave him, "I feel energetic and restless." Fenrir laughed outwardly at Harry's conflicted expression. The wolf was definitely in control. Harry's human side might have been depressed and confused but his wolf was not. And by the way Harry bounced on the mattress his wolf was playful. It was to be expected from a pup, especially one who had been burying his wolf side so deeply.

"You want to play." Fenrir said, stating the obvious, resisting the urge to smile at Harry's gleeful look he moved to sit on the end of the bed. It had been sometime since the man had been around a pup. Cyn was young still, but no where as near as mischievous as Harry was.

"It's getting stronger." Harry said loudly, rolling his shoulders and biting his bottom lip.

"Don't fight it, pup. Let it become more dominate." Coaxed Fenrir gently – or as gently as he could manage, his voice was gruff but Harry didn't seem to notice as he breathed deeply and shut his eyes.

Fenrir hoped he wasn't pushing back his wolf. It was something Harry would do. "Harry, look at me." Harry did so, opening his eyes and relaxing his deep breathing. Fenrir's breath caught in his throat at the vivid, fully orange eyes that stared at him. Blown pupils hid the bright colour and Harry's lips stretched back into a grin. If it wasn't for the dark red liquid that dribbled over his full lips Fenrir wouldn't have caught sight of the protruding canines.

The boy was fully merged with his werewolf and gods if it wasn't a beautiful sight.

Harry lunged forward quickly, his small body moving gracefully. He crouched on the bed in front of Fenrir's sitting form, bringing his nose close to Fenrir's and touching it against the older werewolf. Fenrir allowed his own wolf dominance and merged, growling softly at the pup. Harry butted noses once more, a gesture of benevolence.

"How does it feel, little pup?" Fenrir asked. Harry licked away the blood from his mouth and swallowed it greedily. His wolf instincts out weighing his human. "Do you like being merged with your wolf?"

"Yes," Harry replied in a whisper, he was still inches away from Fenrir's face, staring intently into the man's ocher eyes. "It feels wonderful."

Fenrir was ready for the playful nip Harry aimed at his collarbone, having seen the boy's eyes flick downwards in preparation. He moved swiftly out of the way and then brought his momentum forwards, tipping the pup back onto the mattress. Harry growled, it was a small, careful attempt to sound threatening.

Fenrir wasn't intimidated in the least.

"You need to learn how to growl properly, pup. You sound pathetic." Harry bristled at the insult and sat up, making another attempt to nip Fenrir's skin. It amused the man to no end how roguish Harry's wolf side was. "Don't growl from your throat, growl from your chest." He instructed. Harry's chest was rising and falling rapidly as he fought to control his wolfish desires. "Try it, pup."

Sending Fenrir a challenging stare the boy growled, this time it was lower and longer, but still a puppy-like attempt. Deciding that Harry would learn how to growl accurately in due course Fenrir stood up from the bed. Immediately Harry was by his side, holding tightly to his elbow. Fenrir shook off the clingy pup.

"Don't leave. I don't know how to control my wolf yet."

"I'm not leaving, pup. We are leaving."

Harry's hand made to grab his elbow again. Fenrir stilled the boy's movement by grasping his thin wrists. "Why are we leaving?" Harry asked, twisting out of Fenrir's hold.

"To play," Fenrir answered simply. "You wanted to, yes?" Harry nodded and then grinned, it was a wide grin and Fenrir caught sight of the boy's lovely canines. It must have been painful for Harry when they erupted from his gums, but it was something all newly turned werewolves had to experience if they wanted to amalgamate completely.

"Can we go into the forest?"

"No, pup. Let's stay in the grounds. We don't want you getting into trouble."

Harry pouted, "I don't get –"

"You finish that sentence I will have to dub you a liar."

Harry snapped his mouth closed. Frowning he followed his Alpha from the small room. His wolf was ecstatic to be able to roam the grounds freely. It was a desire Harry's human side hadn't had, now that his human was pushed deeply into the back of his mind, his wolf took over wholly. Once the pair was out of the room Harry snarled teasingly at Fenrir and dashed away – willing the man to chase him.

It was odd how he had no care in the world now that he was merged. His wolf thought differently than his human. It was something that made Harry wish he could transform into his wolf completely.

* * *

><p>The night air was bitter with the approaching winter and it stung at Harry's skin, it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as he would have expected. Had his human been at the forefront he doubted he would be running full pelt across the large courtyard, not wincing about the chill or light drizzle of rain. His wolf was animalistic and eager to explore the night. Harry was more than happy to allow it to, he felt free – he <em>was<em> free.

"You run any faster and I'll lose sight of you." Harry gave a bay of laughter, turning around mid-run to watch Fenrir sprint the length of the courtyard he slowed to a standstill. It was obvious to any one with a brain that the Alpha didn't mean his words; he was quick and agile and far surpassed Harry in speed. But the indirect compliment was nice and made Harry grin widely.

Fenrir stopped by Harry, in the dark of the night his silver-blond hair glowed like freshly fallen snow, Harry wanted to reach out and touch it – such a compulsion made him frown. His fingers twitched and he made to reach out, his hand suspended in the air between them, he dropped his hand and looked to his feet. A warm palm cupping his cheek didn't surprise him, what did surprise him was that he leant into the gentle touch.

"You don't have to quell your desires, Harry," it wasn't often Fenrir said his name in such a low, soft purr, but it sounded wonderful coming from him, "wolves are very tactile, touching is a way of communication between us. Don't let your human emotions impede; you need to give your wolf assurance." The palm on his cheek lingered for a moment longer and then it was gone, Harry shivered from the flush of cold air against his warmed cheek.

"I'm still getting use to my wolf desires." He admitted with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Fenrir nodded.

"As is expected, it's only your first full merging. It will be a time until you understand your wolf in every respect." A silence lapsed between them. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; it appeared that Fenrir was giving him time to come to a decision. Although what decision that was Harry hadn't the foggiest.

A scampering of what sounded like rabbits dashing was loud, Harry knew that the animals must be in the forest, and was quietly smug that he had picked up on them. Did Fenrir and his pack hear this good everyday? They were all fully merged after all.

"Fenrir –?"

"Yes, pup." Ocher eyes turned on him, eyeing him carefully, it gave Harry the immediate impression of being a young child and having an adult watching his every move, just incase he should stumble or get into something he shouldn't have. It was the strangest feeling.

"Can we have a race? I want to run." His wolf was scratching under the surface, longing to burst into a sprint and race around the grounds. He wanted to outrun his confusion about werewolves and Fenrir and the growing worry about what would happen once his human side was back in control.

Fenrir smiled, it was languid and sincere, "good idea, where are we racing to?" Harry puckered his lips in thought. Raising one blond brow Fenrir mocked Harry's thoughtful face, twisting his lips childishly. Harry hoped he didn't look so childlike himself and huffed laughter into the air.

"Well…?" prompted the older.

"Anywhere!" Exclaimed Harry and with that said he darted sharply to his right and was off at a full out gallop. Seconds later Fenrir was hot on his heels, the thrill of being chased made Harry laugh breathlessly. The wind was rough against his face and the ground uneven, but it didn't matter, all that concerned Harry was that he win the _anywhere_ race. His wolf was alive and playful and the night had only begun.

* * *

><p>Harry was an energetic pup, full of hyperactivity and swift on his feet. Fenrir felt a sense of pride while watching the boy chase after some nighttime creepy-crawly, their race had ended with Harry announcing he had won, Fenrir didn't bother to question how that was. They were now by the stretching lake; Fenrir was sprawled in the tall grass, oblivious to the dampness. His attention was solely focused on Harry.<p>

"You'll traumatize that insect, pup," he said lazily. It amused him to no end that Harry's wolf side was so absolutely jokey. Most of his pack was old enough to have out grown the active-puppy stage, and as young as Cyn was, she had never been hyper.

A smile pulled at his lips when Harry leaped through the swaying grass, his eyes intent and watching a small beetle. He lunged at the fleeing bug and caught it swiftly in his palm; the smirk of pure pride had Fenrir chuckling under his breath.

"I caught it, Fenrir." Harry stated loudly, waving his closed fist in the air to prove his words true.

"It only took you half an hour. The beetle probably got tired and took pity on you." He got a glare for his words. "Bring it over, pup, and let me see your catch." Fenrir didn't see the harm in indulging Harry with a bit of praise, even if his accomplishment wasn't earth-shattering. Harry quickly stalked over, holding out his hand as he did so.

The beetle was a simple black one, common at night and around the lake, it sat motionless in the boy's small palm. "It put up a good chase." Harry said seriously. Quelling the strong urge to laugh at his pup Fenrir settled for a smirk.

"You know that if you want to be taken seriously as a werewolf you'll have to do better than that?" Harry looked put out and crossed his arms, folding the bug into a fist. "Hunting insects is all well and good, but it won't feed a pack now will it?"

The light teasing was comfortable and Fenrir watched as Harry rolled his amber eyes heaven wards, "let me have my moment." He said with a grin, and then he held up the captured bug like it was some golden trophy.

"Moior claims they bite,"

Harry stilled his movements, his body becoming rigid. "What bite?" he asked.

Fenrir nodded his head to the beetle, "the beetles. I don't think they do –" in spite of his reassurance Harry flung out his arm and shook his hand wildly, muttering something under his breath and dancing about the grass. The boy is an odd one, Fenrir thought, relaxing back into the grass. Harry continued to jitter around for a few moments before he too slumped into the grass.

"Thanks for telling me that, now I've got creepy, yucky feelings," as if to enforce his point Harry sharply looked to the ground, inhaling through his nose, Fenrir followed his action and looked at the small wandering beetle that lumbered over the flattened grass.

"I never said they did bite, Moior just believes they do. He's jumpy when it comes to bugs, and apparently you are too."

"Only if they bite!" Harry claimed. Fenrir rested his elbows on the damp ground and tipped his head back to stare at the sky, the night sky was pitch black with a scattering of stars, it was a clear night and yet small splatters of rain was falling every once in a while. The moon was curved against the velvet backdrop, pale and distant.

"How do you feel?" Fenrir asked after a brief silence. He could feel Harry shift next to him, the small, warm body a comfort at his side.

"Still a bit itchy." Harry replied offhandedly.

Fenrir sighed, "about merging, Harry, not the bug." The boy snorted laughter from his nose and Fenrir stole a side on glance only to see a small blush staining the boy's cheeks.

"Oh, right. Good, I mean – I feel free and I haven't a care whatsoever. It's like all my problems have just fallen away, and I still feel active, much more than usual." With all the running around the two of them had done Fenrir was surprised that Harry still had energy. "I've enjoyed tonight." Whispered Harry softly, his breath fogged the air in front of him.

When a thin shoulder bumped into his Fenrir inhaled quickly, Harry's soft raven hair tickled his jaw, and it occurred to him that the pup was resting against him. Clearly Harry had listened to him earlier and allowed his wolf to act on its tactile instincts.

"Are you cold?" he asked Harry, the hair against his jaw rubbed at his skin as Harry shook his head.

"No, I just wanted to be close, I guess. I don't know, do you mind?"

It was normal for any pack member to want to be close to their Alpha, large packs would all sleep together, piled over one another, all striving to be the one to be closest to the Alpha. Fenrir's own pack would brush up against him, in both wolf form and human form. It was a sign of affection, being close to one another was a given for a pack.

"No, I don't mind."

Silence settled around them, thick but inviting and Fenrir allowed his eyes to close as he rested fully back onto the grass. The water of the lake lapped softly, it would have been a sound unheard by a human, but for Fenrir it was sharp and clear.

It wasn't until a prominent voice spoke did he realize he had slipped into a doze. Shaking his head Fenrir opened his eyes; the night sky was blocked out by Moior's face. The man was looking down at Fenrir with a smirk fixed on his lips.

"I was wondering where you got to," the younger werewolf said. Fenrir grunted, his back was wet from the grass and the chill in the air was beginning to get to him. "How long have you been cuddling with the sub?" Moior questioned with a rakish wink. Fenrir frowned, only then realizing the warmth at his side. Craning his neck he looked down to see Harry, his cheek was resting against Fenrir's chest and his small body curled snugly against Fenrir's own.

"No clue, I dozed off." Moior flicked his white hair from his face.

"Wake him up and come inside, it's cold."

"Don't give me orders, _pup_." Despite the fact that Moior wasn't much younger than Fenrir he still got titled pup, Fenrir used the word for most wolves younger than himself. Moior looked sheepish at the reprimand. "Is there a reason why you came searching for me?"

"Aside the fact Harry was missing and you were too?" Moior kicked at the grass, toeing the muddy ground with his boot, "Cyn spotted a wolf, turned and very large." Fenrir was on his feet before Moior had finished his sentence, a sleepy Harry groaned softly from the ground, reaching out for Fenrir's warmth and body.

"Wolfe?"

Shrugging Moior bent down and hauled Harry to his feet, the boy was still half asleep and he stumbled into the tall man, "we don't know for sure, but it's pretty bloody likely." Fenrir's eyes narrowed when Moior wrapped a steadying arm around Harry's slim waist, holding the pup to his chest. "We should get Harry inside, someplace safe."

"My quarters."

A shifty look from Moior made Fenrir glare, he was already on edge about the sighting, he didn't need Moior's uncertainty. "Are you certain?" Fenrir nodded sharply. "You don't allow anyone in to your personal quarters."

"He's merged still; I want to keep an eye on him." It wasn't the only reason he wanted to keep Harry close. Although Fenrir wasn't sure what the other reason were just yet. "Have the others be notified?"

"They're in the eatery, waiting for you."

"Good," reaching out Fenrir silently demanded to be passed the drowsy sub, Moior complied, "tell them I'll be five minutes." He said shortly before moving off to take Harry inside. Moior followed but when his separate way at the courtyard.

"I want to come with you." Fenrir looked down at Harry, the boy looked more awake now, his eyes were emerald green but amber still lurked within them. He was still merged, just not fully.

Ignoring the pleading eyes Fenrir shook his head, "no, I won't risk it."

"Won't risk what? Me being with the pack? It sounds safer than me being alone in a room, doesn't it?" Harry was right, of course. It was Fenrir's Alpha instincts that were making him on edge and protective of the littlest pack member. "If it was Wolfe it concerns me, Fenrir."

"Pup, this is for –"

A long and loud howl sounded in the night, renting the air with noise and a message that made Fenrir's skin crawl. Harry was twisting his head this way and that trying to decipher what direction the howl came from.

"Was that one of the pack?" he asked frantically. Fenrir reached out his hand and took a hold of Harry's soft hair, gripping it in his fist, he tugged the boy to his chest. The howl sounded again and Harry made no move to pull away from the Alpha. "Fenrir…?"

"It was Cace,"

"Cace? Why is she howling?" The raw panic staining Harry's voice grounded Fenrir and his racing heart thundered in his chest. "Fenrir what's happened?" Harry could sense the change in the atmosphere, Fenrir knew he could, the boy's shoulders were hunched and he cowered close to Fenrir.

"They've been attacked. It's Wolfe, he's inside the grounds."

Suddenly, with the words hanging thick in the air, Fenrir felt like nowhere was safe.


	7. Chapter 7

**-CHAPTER SEVEN: My Sweet Puppy-**

* * *

><p>"Fenrir," Harry grunted, his legs stumbling underneath him as the large man dragged him by the arm, "Fenrir that hurts!" Fenrir ignored Harry and continued onwards, his jaw set firmly. Harry had no idea where he was being taken. They'd left the courtyard behind and now walked down a thin, winding grass path that was between two very tall, very imposing buildings made entirely of shiny stone. If Fenrir's grip hadn't been bruising, Harry might have had time to notice the setting was impressively beautiful.<p>

He didn't however. Instead he continued whining like an upset puppy.

"I'm taking you someplace safe. To the _only_ safe place here." Fenrir growled back at him when Harry keened loudly. Fenrir's teeth gnashed together and his eyes flashed amber. Harry shivered inwardly at the intense spasm of Fenrir's hand, his fingers digging into Harry's bicep painfully.

"You mean this place isn't safe?" Harry asked plaintively. A hard tug had him against Fenrir's warm chest, it heaved with deep breaths and Harry stared quizzically up at the werewolf for a moment. Fenrir spared him a brief glance before lifting his hand and flattening Harry's wayward fringe with his palm; smoothing down the dark strands methodically and making Harry blush, feeling very much like a small child.

Grunting and dropping his hand to the back of Harry's neck Fenrir locked their eyes. Harry took a small step back. "This place _is_ safe, Harry," he stated matter-of-factly giving a squeeze to the boy's neck to enforce his words. "Perhaps I should clarify and say that the people here make it safe. We have no large wire fences or guards but we protect our territory like warriors when we need to. You are safe with us."

Harry swallowed and he swore he could hear it clearly. "Then why did you take off like a startled bird back there? Why are we running if we're safe?" Fenrir's hand dropped at Harry's unconscious pout.

"Wolfe is after you,"

Harry resisted an eye roll and nodded like a good little boy.

"He wishes to _retrieve_ you. I am merely making it harder for him to do that." The hand was back and this time it bunched a handful of Harry's hair.

"You're hiding me?" Harry said incredulously. Fenrir nodded sharply. "What? If he's after me I can help, your pack is in danger and you're running off with me! That makes no sense!" Harry tried to step backward but Fenrir wouldn't allow it. He held the boy tightly by the hair and sneered.

"Don't pull away from me, pup." He growled at Harry who winced at the sound and dropped his gaze to his toes immediately. "You are a submissive, there for I am going to protect you first and foremost." He explained gruffly. A look that eluded Harry flickered across Fenrir's expression when the boy peeked up at him shyly; unsure whether the scolding had ended.

"I'm not weak." Harry said quietly.

"No one insinuated you were."

"Then stop treating me like I'm a baby."

Fenrir's laugh was husky and deep. "But you are just a baby, pup." He ran his fingers across Harry's scalp soothingly. "You're young and new to all this." He clarified.

Harry frowned but couldn't resist leaning into the touch. It made his stomach flutter with pleasant tingles and his skin tickled like ants were crawling across it. He hated his body for enjoying the man's touch, hated himself for giving into it. He didn't have time to dwell on his confusion however for Fenrir tugged him forward against his chest once more. It was warm and comforting and all too close for Harry's liking.

"I'm going to take you to my quarters and then I'll see to my pack. The sooner you cooperate the quicker my pack gets my assistance, do you understand?"

Harry nodded against Fenrir's body, his forehead sliding over the soft fabric of the man's shirt as he did so.

"Say it out loud, pup." The order was friendly and soft and Harry complied.

"Yes, I understand, Fenrir."

Harry could feel Fenrir nod in satisfaction.

"Come along then. No more whining either." A light tap to the tip of Harry's nose and a stern look into green eyes had Harry biting his lower lip and nodding.

"Yes Fenrir."

"Good boy."

* * *

><p>It seemed like hours had dragged by, when in actuality it was only going on ten minutes.<p>

Harry sat on the edge of Fenrir's large bed, his feet dangling over the edge. His shoes scuffed the ground occasionally as he waited for Fenrir and the pack to return. Fenrir's room was impressive. It was large with a high ceiling and white painted walls. Most the furniture was varnished oak wood. In all it was a beautiful room. Not the type of room one would expect a large and foreboding werewolf to have however.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose Harry tried to quell his nerves. Some part of him ached with the knowledge that the pack was in danger, he hated Wolfe for turning him into a werewolf and hated him even more for being the reason his parents had been so brutally murdered in cold blood. But what really made him despise the werewolf was that he threatened Fenrir and the rest of the pack.

Despite still not fully fitting in, the night had been somewhat reassuring to Harry that Fenrir wanted him around. The man had tried his best to help Harry merge with his wolf and had spent the night playing with him. It made Harry's tummy heat pleasantly at the thought that Fenrir would go to so much trouble for him.

Sitting with his eyes still shut tight Harry heard the door to the quarters open, it creaked ever so slightly on its hinges and then a scent Harry hadn't encountered before assailed his nose.

"You must be the new submissive…?" Harry's eyes shot open at the soft, if not somewhat grumpy voice and he came face to face with a young girl, around his age. Her brunette hair cascaded over her small shoulders and her large, wide eyes watched him with something akin to distress.

At a loss of what to say he merely nodded his head and rasped out a small, "yeah," the girl was obviously the other submissive in the pack. She was petite and soft looking.

"I'm Cyn," the girl said suddenly and extended her left hand out. It hung between them for a few awkward seconds until Harry caught on to what she wanted him to do. Blushing slightly at his slowness he extended his own hand and took hers gently. Her palm was smooth against his and her hand smaller than his own.

"I'm Harry," Harry replied once the handshake was over. They let go at the same time and dropped their hands back to their sides quickly. Harry had no idea why the meeting was so awkward. All he knew was that when Cyn fixed her dark gaze on him his stomach flipped with an odd sensation. Was it a desire to protect the smaller adolescent? Perhaps Harry was just overwhelmed at finally having someone his own size and age around? Whatever it was it made him stutter out his next words stupidly.

"How – how come you're here, and not, you know…with the pack?" He felt like hiding his face in his hands after the sentence was out but he manned up and stared straight at Cyn, waiting for her reply. She shrugged one shoulder.

"Cace told me to come check on you. It's actually the first time I've been in Fenrir's quarters. He doesn't allow many people to see his quarters."

"How's the pack? Fenrir said something about an attack?" Harry asked urgently. He was somewhat surprised at the fierce pang of fear he felt when thinking of a pack member hurt. He was beginning to get attached, he knew this, and yet some small part of him was afraid to get too close, just in case it was all taken away from him like with his parents.

Cyn moved back a bit. Harry noted she was wearing tight jeans and an even tighter t-shirt. He quickly averted his gaze to her eyes.

"They are alright, Wolfe got to us in the eatery. I swear he was out to kill. Not surprising really given the tales about him, but just being face to face with the real thing was dead scary. Moior and Elvy fought him off. Wolfe fled, and that's when Cace told me to come check on you. I think she just wanted me out of harms way." Cyn said self-importantly.

Harry relaxed slightly in knowing that the pack was safe, for now.

"You've been out with Fenrir tonight?" Cyn asked abruptly. Her tone was low, was it hinted with jealousy? Harry nodded.

"Yeah, he was helping me merge with my wolf. I wasn't doing to good with accepting it and all. Far as I can tell my wolf was battling it out with my human side."

"That happens at times with newly turned wolves. I never had that problem," said Cyn with a sniff of disdain, "I accepted it in no time."

Harry shifted on the edge of the bed and squashed his hand underneath his thighs. It stopped him from fiddling. "Did you get turned or were you born a werewolf?" he asked after a moment of pause. Cyn licked her lips and Harry found his attention zeroed in on that one action. His gut squeezed tight and he couldn't for the life of him work out the emotions surrounding him.

"I was turned, most of the pack was, Fenrir was born a werewolf as was Moior the rest of us have been turned." Cyn stated simply.

"How old were you when you were turned?" Harry questioned, he had little else to say and he didn't want to sit in silence and be uncomfortable.

Cyn hummed in her throat and twisted her lips in thought. "I was around twelve. I'm nineteen now. So it's been awhile. I'm not sure if Cace has said anything to you about it, but it was her who turned me."

"She never mentioned that," Harry said quietly. Then he asked; "what happened to your family?"

Cyn's eyes darkened further if it was possible and she frowned heavily. "Same thing that happened to yours." She replied shortly and Harry knew it was a subject that he wasn't allowed to hear about. He quickly pinched his lips together and held his breath.

"I'm really sorry," he said after a minute, his voice sounded breathy and thick. A small insidious voice inside him wondered why Cyn didn't hold it against Cace for turning her. He'd never seen the two together so he didn't know what kind of relationship they had but surely there was some resentment on Cyn's part towards Cace. Harry certainly felt resentment towards Wolfe for turning him.

"Shit happens." Was Cyn only response and then a heavy and solid silence descended over the two of them. Harry wriggled his feet for lack of anything else to do and Cyn walked about the room, examining random object with interest.

"Are you close to Cace?" Harry wondered out loud. Cyn turned away from the dresser she was at and placed down a wooden wolf statue she held. She watched Harry for a moment and it felt like she was trying to read his mind. Her dark gaze burned Harry green one and finally she answered.

"I don't resent her if that's what you mean," Harry wanted to shout _mind-reader_ at her but quelled that desire instantly. Cyn was more observant and quick then Harry had first assumed. "She protected me and my family as best she could. The night when the hunters came for me, Cace was there. She warned my parents and older brother of what would happen if they didn't leave and go into hiding. I remember pleading with them to let Cace hide us all."

"What happened then?" Harry asked with a frown.

Cyn took a deep breath and Harry thought for a moment she wasn't going to continue, but then she sighed and forged on. "The hunters arrived just as we were leaving. They met us out side the house. There were four of them, all loaded with weapons and ready to kill. Cace was amazing. She fought them off as best she could and told us all to get in the car and go. I didn't want to leave her, perhaps if I did my family would still be alive but Cace would surely be dead.

"I stayed. I didn't leave and stupidly I fought against the hunters. My mother was the first to fall. She was always trying to protect me. I was the youngest you see? So I was the baby of the family. She was cut down like some hunted animal. I just," Cyn paused, her eyes over bright. "I just remember the smell of warm blood and staring at the gaping wound on her neck. And that's when I realized I would never hear her speak again, never have her hold me. She was gone."

Harry wanted the reach out and comfort Cyn in some way, but he didn't know what to say or do, so he stayed silent. After a small silence Cyn continued on with her story, her voice thick with emotions.

"My father went next. He was a big man but no match for four hunters. They shot him." She didn't elaborate further. "Then went, Paul. My brother. He fell last and that's when Cace grabbed me. I was so dazed from seeing my family slaughtered I let her take me. She fought off the hunters and threw me into her car. To ride away from my family was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do." She stopped there and swallowed noisily.

"So you see, Harry," she said purposely, "you're not the only one to have lost your family. Many werewolves have gone through similar experiences."

Harry almost bowed his head but a noise caught his attention and he snapped it up. It was outside the room, not far off, and it sounded like feet running – _no_ – not feet, paws! Freezing up on the bed Harry looked to Cyn.

"You hear that?" he asked her. She nodded and held her finger across her lips, silently asking for Harry's silence. He gave her it and they both waited as the sound got nearer. Then the scent hit. It was wild, feral and irrevocably dangerous.

It was Wolfe.

He'd found them.

"It's Wolfe!" Harry hissed out needlessly. Cyn was pallid and wide eyed. "Quick, hide!" Harry then said when Cyn remained motionless. Scurrying to comply the girl ran over to the large bed and then dropped to her knees.

"Get under with me…," she said to Harry who, for lack of anywhere else to hide, dropped off the bed and crawled his way under. It was cold under the bed, the stone flooring having everything to do with it. But they were hidden.

Lying close to Cyn Harry could feel her breath against his cheek and feel the warmth of her body against his own.

When the door opened Harry held his breath in his chest so forcefully it felt like his ribs might crack from the pressure. From beside him Cyn was shaking. The door smacked against the wall as it opened and the loud bang made Harry's body startle and jerk. The scent of Wolfe was almost overpowering. It invaded his sense like a thick fog. He couldn't breathe for fear kept him so still his bones ached.

"I know you're in here little puppies," Harry's lungs hurt with the breath he held but he dared not let it out for fear of being caught. Wolfe's voice was menacing and low. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…," he all but sang. Despite the fact he was practically singing to them it didn't make him seem less intimidating.

It was like a sinister game of hide and seek; with Wolfe being the seeker and Harry and Cyn being the children hiding. Cyn shivered next to Harry and despite their current situation Harry reached out his hand to her, a small offering of console. She took his hand straight away and held it in her clammy hand tight.

"Where are you my pup?" Wolfe asked the seemingly empty room. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tight and willed his racing heart to quiet down. Wolfe would surely hear his heartbeat. "Perhaps you're in the closet?" The sound of squeaking alerted Harry to the closet door being open, and then it dawned on Harry. Wolfe knew where they were, he'd known before he'd even entered the room. He was just playing with them, like a loin before the kill, he was stalking them.

Not knowing what to do, Harry lay frozen on the cold stone floor. His wound ached. His chest hurt with his thunderous heartbeat. His damn blood was rushing through his veins at a million miles per hour.

"Not in the closet I see," Wolfe was saying now. "Perhaps under Alpha's bed then?" Harry gut shriveled into a tiny ball and not thinking through his next move he quickly rolled out from under the bed, letting go of Cyn's hand while doing so. If he could keep Wolfe's attention on him, then Cyn could go for help or at least go undetected. Harry just hoped she stayed hidden.

"Ah," Wolfe sighed, "there you are my pup. Sick of hiding I see?" From Harry's viewpoint on the ground he could see the towering form of Wolfe standing over him. The werewolf looked ten times more frightening when Harry was on his back, on the ground, defenseless.

Not sparing under the bed a glance Harry got to his feet swiftly, standing up his tallest, which compared to Wolfe was scrawny and diminutive. Wolfe leered at him and watched his every move carefully. Apparently he didn't sense Cyn.

"All alone in your Alpha's quarters I see, pup."

"What's it to you?" Okay, so it wasn't the comeback of the year. But it was something. Harry just had to keep Wolfe talking and hope Fenrir or one of the pack would come to help.

"I was hoping you'd be alone," Wolfe stated quietly. "Easier for me to steal you away." He laughed at Harry blanch and moved a step closer. Harry sneered, showing his teeth. Wolfe sneered back showing his canines. Harry human teeth paled in comparison.

"Don't come any closer!" He warned, although what a petite teenaged boy could do against a hulking werewolf was limited. Wolfe didn't heed his words; in fact he strolled closer almost as if he were deaf. His eyes were fully amber and Harry could tell he was merged with his wolf-side.

"I'll come closer if I want to, pup." Wolfe said as he neared Harry. He reached out his hand and placed it against Harry's cheek. Harry snarled but didn't move away. "You're trembling my pretty," Wolfe whispered softly, "how very endearing."

"He only trembles because you're such a creep!"

Harry's heart sank when Cyn spoke up. She'd crawled from under the bed and was standing on the other side of the large mattress. Wolfe flinched and spun around to watch her; clearly he was put out by having her there.

Harry wanted to scream at Cyn, to shout in her face. Why hadn't she stayed hidden? She could have gone for help if Harry had gotten Wolfe out of the room. Was she dense?

"Cyn…," Harry said out loud, swallowing down his disappointment. Wolfe looked back to Harry and Harry saw his chance. "Run!" he screamed at the girl and then he lunged himself at Wolfe, tackling the werewolf with all his strength. It was a stupid move but one he felt necessary to make. From the corner of his eye he saw Cyn sprinting from the room and thanked his lucky stars that she would get help.

It was a testament to how large and strong Wolfe was, he didn't fall over like Harry had hoped. He just swayed slightly before wrapping his muscular arms around Harry's slim waist, holding him in place firmly. Harry knew as soon as those brawny, controlling arms encircled his middle that he'd made a dire mistake.

"Throwing yourself at me, pup. How lovely. Just so you know your little stunt has brought more trouble on you then it has on me." Wolfe hoisted Harry off his feet and made for the door. Harry squirmed as best he could be it was useless, he was not going anywhere.

The only option left was to scream. And scream he did.

"HELP!" Harry shouted, probably near deafening Wolfe in the process. If he could keep screaming Fenrir and the pack would be able to locate him. "Help me!" Wolfe growled low in his chest and spun Harry around like some ragdoll.

"Shut up…," he hissed and clamped a hand over Harry's mouth, squashing the boy's lips firmly so no sound could be made. "I'm not failing at taking you again, pup. Mark my words, you are _mine_."

Harry desperately tried to make some noise; a hum, a squeal, _anything_. But it was useless. He couldn't get Wolfe's hand off his mouth, he couldn't squirm his way out of the werewolves arms, he was trapped and being stolen away from his pack.

In that one instant Harry longed for Fenrir more than he ever had. He wanted his Alpha to make it all better, to come dashing in like he had before and to fight off Wolfe. But alas Fenrir didn't come.

The night was chilly and dewy as Wolfe stole Harry away, smuggled in his arms, bound by strong hands.

"This time your Alpha won't be getting you back my sweet puppy." Wolfe promised.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the late update, do I still have readers? :(<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**-CHAPTER EIGHT: Lycanthropy Fever-**

* * *

><p>"Nice bedroom, Fenrir." Elvy said with a twist of his lips as the pack entered the large quarters. Fenrir didn't reply to him, he was too busy staring at the vacant room.<p>

The room was empty. The blasted room was fucking empty. Fenrir was seething with rage. Turning he faced his pack and singled out Cyn. The girl looked pale as she eyed her Alpha with trepidation. "He's gone." Fenrir bit out passed gritted teeth.

"I swear they were here when I left, Harry jumped at Wolfe and I made my escape." Cyn hasted to say. She hated it when Fenrir's wrath was settled on her. "Perhaps Wolfe stole Harry? Kidnapped him?" she added as an afterthought.

"Of course he bloody did!" Fenrir shouted, his canines erupting from his gums. Cyn flinched back as did the other pack members. "That's the problem!"

"Fenrir, you have to calm down," Cace said once a silence had settled over them. The Alpha shot her a glare; he was not in the mood for her coddling. "There's still his scent and Wolfe's," she sated.

Fenrir sniffed and sure enough in his rage he'd missed the blatant obvious. The heady scent of the pup was strong in the room as was the wild scent of Wolfe.

"We can track them down. If we split up we have a better chance of finding them before they leave the grounds." Cace said.

She was right of course. The ever level headed Cace was right. Fenrir took a steadying breath, hoping to dissipate some of the rage he was feeling at losing the littlest pack member. He'd channel the rage onto Wolfe, not his pack. That way the bastard got what he deserved. Letting his canines retreat back into his gums he sighed.

"We'll search together and follow their scents, there's no need to split up. It would be pointless."

Moior nodded his agreement. As Beta he was second in charge and always backed up what the Alpha decided. "The fresher the scent the quicker we'll find them." He opined.

"The better our noses the quicker we'll find them," Fenrir amended and then his eyes flushed ocher, he was merging with his wolf. "Every body in wolf form, now." He commanded. He had the power to force transformation but it wasn't necessary, each one of his pack morphed cleanly into their wolf form.

The sound of tearing fabric was loud as each member of the pack morphed.

Once fully transformed Fenrir sat on his haunches in front of his pack, facing him sat four very different wolves; Moior was the fully white one, large a lean. Cace was the tawny coloured wolf, smaller then the Beta by a bit. Elvy was the blond wolf and Cyn was the chocolate brown one; she was the smallest wolf by far, her shoulders barely reached Fenrir's underbelly.

With a direct look at each in turn Fenrir got to his paws and trotted out the door. The scent of Harry was now stronger tenfold and he could smell the sweet scent of the puppy easily. Having his senses heightened was also good in the dark, for he could seek out Wolfe easier.

The padding of paws behind him alerted Fenrir to his pack following him and together they took off into the night in search of the submissive.

* * *

><p>"You smell good, puppy," Wolfe hummed into Harry's neck; his breath was hot against the shell of Harry's ear and it made Harry want to gag. He couldn't however, not with the hand covering his mouth so forcefully. He tried for some words but all he managed was a small squeak of something incoherent.<p>

"What's that?" Wolfe asked and let the hand drop from Harry's mouth. Harry should have screamed bloody murder but instead he stupidly answered the question.

"I called you a pervert," he said through gritted teeth. Wolfe laughed then, it was a low sound in his throat.

"I've a writhing, warm boy in my arms. Of course I am. Now hush. I'm stealing you away." With that said he made to clamp his hand over Harry's mouth again. The boy would have none of that however and twisted his head from side to side, all the while flailing his body as much as was possible.

Harry might have been diminutive but he wasn't weightless. Wolfe grunted under the strain of controlling him, then he done something dim-witted. He turned Harry around in his arms.

"You might think you can escape –"

Harry took his chance and before Wolfe could finish his hissed sentence Harry had kicked him below the belt, straight to the groin. Wolfe wheezed out a curse word as his hold on Harry lessened, and Harry took his chance to flee.

Not turning back Harry dashed away into the forest surrounding Fenrir's home. If he had been thinking straight he would have ran back the way they had come, to the safety of Fenrir's quarters, but he wasn't in his right mind, he was frantic and fearful, and so he ran without a destination in mind.

Wolfe growled low in his chest and it rumbled like thunder. He was not happy. He would not lose the brat again.

Morphing into the huge black wolf that he was, Wolfe took off after the fleeing pup. He would catch the boy quickly in his wolf form.

Claws digging into the damp soil Wolfe ran swiftly, his jaws open to reveal his dirty yellow teeth. Harry was injured and would fatigue easy, the chase would be minutes long, if that. Dashing head first into the forest Wolfe relied on his excellent eyesight to keep from running into trees or falling over roots.

It wasn't long before he found Harry. The pup was running quickly but he wasn't quick enough to out run a full grown, angered wolf. Growling at Harry Wolfe made one last final sprint straight for the boy; he snarled deeply, flattened his ears to his skull, and then pounced. Harry turned back at the sound and his eyes were wide, his lips gaping as the seventy kilo wolf made contact with him.

The sound of the collision was loud, a forceful smack of flesh and bones hitting. Harry shouted in pain as he fell to the ground, the large wolf standing on top of him. Wolfe snarled, his hackles were raised and saliva dribbled down onto Harry's face. It was a sight that had Harry's heart in his throat, beating so painfully loud. He'd been caught. And Wolfe was not happy.

Expecting Wolfe to morph back into his human form Harry lay as still as possible, his breath coming quick and choppy. But Wolfe didn't transform back into his human form, instead he leant down closer to Harry. His putrid breath thick to Harry's nose. Then he opened his jaw a little wider and without pretense bit Harry straight on the neck. The pain that flooded him was unbelievable and Harry screamed loud.

His jugular had been missed but there were still copious amounts of blood. Wolfe lapped at the wound hungrily before turning human once more. He lay naked over Harry's shivering form, his dank hair fell into Harry's face and his lips were pulled back into a leer, revealing his dirty teeth.

"Want to know what I just did, my pup?" he purred into Harry's ear silkily. Harry trembled out of disgust and fear, shaking his head back and forth slowly. "I just injected you again, that means your wolf will be more prominent and more powerful. So when we get out of this blasted forest I can teach you to become potent. I can make you a warrior. Do you want that, Harry?"

"Go to hell! You're a monster."

"You'll be just like me, Harry," Wolfe continued as if he were deaf to Harry's words, "you'll be a rogue. And I'll show you everything you need to know."

"I don't want to be around you, you bastard. You killed my parents!"

"Inadvertently, my pup. Never on purpose. Although with them being out of the way it will be easier for me to train you. And once I get away from Fenrir and his pack that's exactly what I'll do. I'll train you to be the most feared submissive there ever was. You'll rule by my side. A bride of sorts." Wolfe chuckled.

Harry keened and arched his back as a pain danced down his spine. Wolfe smirked at him.

"The changes won't take long, my pup." He promised. "They'll be quick. The bite is my mark, my _claim_ on you. You are mine now."

"I'll never be yours, Wolfe. Never." Harry bit out through the pain that was spreading over his body. What was happening? Was it the bite mark that was causing this? Wolfe chuckled again, moving in closer to Harry he pressed his lips to the bite mark, kissing away the blood there.

Harry froze and whimpered. He didn't know what Wolfe was doing. He was inexperienced with that kind of stuff.

"My sweet puppy," Wolfe whispered. "All mine." He pulled back enough to lock his dark gaze on to Harry's startled emerald one. "Say it, Harry. Tell me you're mine." Harry refused to talk. He clamped his lips shut and willed his shivering to stop. The sudden change from angry to – to, whatever this mood was had Harry's mind reeling. He couldn't keep up with Wolfe.

"No? You won't say it. Even when you know it's true."

"It's not true, I'm not yours!"

"Oh, but you are. I sired you. I am your sire. So that makes you mine." Wolfe explained. Harry didn't want to be owned like some possession. He didn't want to be Wolfe's or anyone's.

Harry was about to reply with some obscenities when the strong haze of his Alpha evaded his senses. The smell was rich and thick and angry.

"Get your hands off _my_ cub, Wolfe." Fenrir said low down in his throat. The sound was masculine and wild. It made Harry's heart pick up it's pace for reasons not to do with fear. Harry wanted to see the man but he couldn't move for Wolfe was squishing him into the ground. Wolfe frowned down at Harry, looking at him as if he'd never seen him before.

"But Greyback," he said quietly, "I only see _my_ pup around here, not yours."

Harry gnashed his teeth together at Wolfe and growled how Fenrir had taught him. A poor attempt to seem threatening. Wolfe chuckled at him scornfully.

"You're going to have to do better than that my pup; you don't seem frightening in the least." Wolfe said to Harry. Harry bristled, he was scary dammit! Doing his best to merge with his wolf Harry glared up at the man, hating him more than anything. This was the man who had ripped him from his safe, happy life. The man who had ruined his family with just one bite.

Suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of anger Harry growled again, and this time it was something to be feared. While not as deep as Fenrir's or as vicious as Wolfe's it was still a fair attempt. It made Wolfe look to Harry more seriously.

"Your eyes have changed colour," he noted absently. "The effects are taking place," Harry snarled up at him and let his wolf take full control. His gums ached and tingled and then his canines erupted. "Such a feisty little creature, but no match for me." Wolfe said contemptuously.

He fumbled for Harry hands, that were by the boy's sides, and ripped them up above Harry's head; holding them in place with a steady grip. "Are you trying to challenge me, pup?" he asked. Harry continued to sneer and glare, tugging his hands uselessly against Wolfe's hold.

"Be still, Harry," it was Moior's voice that spoke and Harry stopped out of pure surprise. Even merged with his wolf he'd not picked up on the scent of the pack until now. "We'll sort something out, okay?" he was trying to sound reassuring but it came out a bit strained.

"You try anything and I'll break his neck!" Wolfe snarled at Moior. Harry swallowed heavily and another wave of pain coursed through his body, making him jerk against Wolfe. The man gave a quiet hum and pushed back against Harry lewdly. Harry made to try out his big boy growl again but was interrupted by another rumble. This one made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Take your hands off him!" Fenrir was shouting now and it made Harry gut twist unpleasantly. "I swear to you Wolfe, you hurt him I will hurt you worse."

"He won't hurt him, Fenrir," this time it was Elvy's voice. "He needs Harry doesn't he? Why would he break his neck? We have the upper hand here." A lightness spread down Harry's body, full of relief at Elvy's words.

"Get him off me!" Harry hissed out to his pack. He didn't particularly like having a naked man on top of him.

Wolfe stood abruptly, pulling Harry up by the hands. The boy groaned when pain throbbed in his gut and then radiated out from there, coursing through his entire body.

"What's happening to me…," he mumbled. His head was beginning to feel wishy-washy and lightheaded, almost like all the blood had drained away from his brain all at once in one sudden action. "I feel weird." How else could he describe the feeling? It was odd and painful and all too scary. Harry didn't like it one bit.

"What have you done to him, Wolfe?" Yelled Cace. Wolfe steadied Harry with his hands and turned to face the pack. Now that Harry was standing he could see Fenrir positioned by a large tree, his pack was assembled behind him, and all had taken up stances ready to fight. All were naked too, which made Harry feel slightly uncomfortable. Had he not have been feeling so odd and woozy he may have blushed at the sight of them.

He didn't have the energy however. It felt like his body was slowly sinking into sleep against his will. His lips felt numb and clumsy and his brain was taking forever to catch up to his own thoughts. In short; he was on a one way train to unconsciousness.

"Wolfe – Wolfe…he – he bit me, Fen…" Harry managed to say around his numb lips. He blinked his eyes wide trying to get away the black dots that were suffusing his vision. It didn't help any. "On the neck…," he added just before a wave of sickness crept up on him and then everything went black. The last noises he heard were the ground rushing up to meet him and Fenrir growling ruthlessly.

* * *

><p>Harry's head ached. In fact his entire body ached; especially his neck. And he felt fevered and simultaneously hot and shivery. What was wrong with him?<p>

"Rest Harry," Harry could hear someone talking to him, someone close by but couldn't make out who it was. His eyesight was blurred and his hearing dulled. It was like he was under water, buried beneath and unable to hear or see. It scared him and he whimpered pathetically. "Don't fret, love," said the same deep voice, "just relax and let your wolf come to the surface. It'll take care of you."

The advice seemed simple enough in theory but for the life of him Harry couldn't focus on his wolf, all he could focus on was the pain burning through his body, pain that made his bones ache unpleasantly. It was worse than growing pains yet not as bad as breaking a bone, it was somewhere in between.

"Help me…," Harry whispered to the dark room. Only now was he becoming more aware of his current situation. He was lying on a lumpy mattress and the smell of undergrowth was thick in the air. "Help me please?" he asked the man, hoping he hadn't left.

The bed dipped from someone sitting on it and the man replied softly; "I'm doing all I can, pup. It's up to you to do the rest. Embrace your wolf like I showed you and you'll get better quicker. The bite mark awakened your wolf even further but you're still suppressing it. You need to let it out, Harry. It's the only way to get better."

"I don't know how to," Harry whined, his body arching off the bed with pain. Warm, large hands rested on his shoulders and Harry blinked his blurry vision trying to see who was leaning over him. "Help me do it."

"Just do what I told you to do before, pup. Take a deep breath and relax," the hands slid from Harry's shoulders to his chest where they rested gently, Harry took a deep breath straight into his lungs and belly, it helped with the pain somewhat. "Good boy," praised the voice, "now focus on your wolf side, let it come to the surface and take control. It needs to Harry or you won't get better."

"It feels really strong," Whispered Harry as he felt his wolf pushing to take control; it wanted out, but Harry didn't think he had the energy to focus on it.

"Of course it does, Wolfe injected you with a double dose, your wolf is going to be stronger for it." The rumbling voice replied gruffly. Harry shut his eyes willing his wolf to the surface, hoping it would come if only so he could get away from the pain.

It only took a moment for his wolf to come to the forefront, it was speedy and rushed as if did so. Harry keened softly when his gums stung and he knew he was almost fully merged with his wolf. Suddenly the room wasn't so quiet; there was the sound of wildlife outside the window and the steady toll of a clock someplace nearby. It wasn't just his hearing that had become clearer it was his sense of smell also.

Harry could smell the all consuming scent of his Alpha easily and he opened his eyes to come face to face with the man. It was the second time he'd been fully merged with his wolf but this time felt different from the last. His wolf was more prominent, more _there_. It was like Harry's human side was completely gone. This time Harry didn't have his human thoughts. He thought like a wolf.

Absently Harry saw Fenrir frown at him with worry while he bounced up and down on the bed like some excited child.

"Harry, how are you feeling?" Fenrir asked but Harry couldn't answer. Not when there was so many scents about and was that the sound of a rabbit scurrying…? Perking up his head Harry tilted it to one side and listened; sure enough he heard the unmistakable sound of a rabbit hopping. And dammit if he didn't want to make chase!

When he didn't answer Fenrir the large werewolf gripped him by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes. Harry stared wide eyed for a moment before he blinked and focused on the rabbit once more.

"Harry, you need to look at me." Ordered Fenrir brusquely, "your wolf has taken over completely –"

Harry snarled at Fenrir to make him stop talking, couldn't he see Harry was trying to hear the rabbit? What if it got away? No, he wouldn't let that happen. He'd track it down. Now. He'd track it down _now_!

Scurrying from the bed Harry dropped to all fours and started an awkward crawl across the ground. His wolf side would prefer all fours but being in human form made that difficult, so he was left to crawl like some oversized toddler towards the door. Before he could reach it however a strong arm wrapped itself around his middle and hauled him up into a strong embrace like he weighed nothing. Stubble scratched against his cheek and then Fenrir spoke in a dangerously low tone.

"Get a hold of your wolf, boy, it's too far surfaced, not even turned werewolves act like this!"

Harry wanted to tell Fenrir he couldn't control it, that it was too strong a compulsion, but he couldn't think on how to form the words. He was stuck with canine thoughts and a human body. How absolutely fun.

"You need to learn to control your wolf side, Harry. You're merged too far with it, don't let it rule you." It was kind of ironic that Fenrir was saying such things when only minutes before he was asking Harry to trust his wolf. Was it the bite that had made the lycanthropy even more pronounced? Surely a double dose wasn't healthy for a newly turned werewolf.

Hanging limp in Fenrir's arms Harry whined like a puppy in distress. He really, _really_ wanted to chase that rabbit!

"Fenrir," Harry snapped his attention to the door where Moior stood. His white hair was windblown and he looked gravely at Harry, "what's going on?"

"Wolfe's bite is making his wolf more dominate; his human side is completely hidden."

Moior shook his head after studying Harry for a moment; "I don't think that's what it is, Fenrir." He said simply. Fenrir gave him a searching look.

"Then what do you think it is?" He asked.

"Lycanthropy fever." Moior stated firmly. Harry stared at him.

He wanted to ask what lycanthropy fever was but the urge to chase the rabbit overpowered the desire to question, so he stayed silent, waiting for the moment Fenrir let him go so he could pounce away.

"His wolf is strong and wants to be fully out, in other words he wants to morph into a wolf, don't you see the signs? His eyes are amber, his teeth elongated; even his nails are claw-like."

"He can't turn until the next full moon,"

"Right. So until then we will have to wait until the fever wears out."

"How long will that be?"

"You're asking me? Cace is the one with medical training. But possibly only a few hours."

Fenrir sighed, "you mean I'm stuck with a playful pup for the next few hours?"

"Pretty much."

"If he runs away on my I swear I'm not chasing him." Stated Fenrir roughly. Moior glanced at him. "I've done enough chasing of him." Fenrir explained.

"I somehow doubt that, Alpha." Moior said quietly with a smile.

* * *

><p>So the next chapter will be focused on FenrirHarry more closely, with poor little Harry having to wait out his lycanthropy fever (we'll learn more about it in the next chappy). I love writing him as a playful pup. If you have any questions just ask me. :)


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